Sliverballers,W2000,& Fiberwire
by NamesR4friends
Summary: A mysterious new target proves to be unlike anything 47 has faced before. Diana crosses paths with a man from her past and learns a terrible secret. A clean-up crew wants to make a name for themselves by working for 47...that is if he'll even hire them. Rated M for strong violence and adult language.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Old Habits

Giving a speech on the news station is a man name Serge Kayaru, a self-proclaimed freedom fighter who some would call a hero. He has built a reputation battling underground slave rings with much success over years. Not only Afrika but also in Asia, Uganda, Uzbekistan and Yugoslavia. He travels with an entourage of female bodyguards all of which have been former slaves and now have sworn an oath to him. Ten are with Kayaru at the moment but it is believed he has a small army. Right now he's giving a press conference live to the public on fighting this atrocity. That was before a splatter of blood came across the 20 inch Magnavox TV.

'Do we look homeless?' I said. "There's already color on the tube so don't add your own fucking Red-Ray Hi-definition. Take a seat and make yourself at home."

My crew drags him to one of the chairs, sat him down and cuffed him to it. The four of us are about to go to work. Everybody had the usual white overall jumpsuits. No, more like white and red with all the bloodstains. Today we got on plastic face mask of US presidents. Since I was top dog I chose Washington. My second is Hamilton and the others are Lincoln and Jackson. Personally I would have been fine with just ski mask and call it a day but the guys like to do this dress up shit from time to time. That and I lost the damn coin toss. The poor bastard I'm standing in front of has a brown maintence staff uniform on. Nothing special, just some low life about to be punished.

We're in one of our custom basements we sometimes bring folks to ask hard questions or just to work over. It was a big enough room with grey brick walls. To the far right was where we kept our equipment and to the left there are shackles on the wall, enough to hold five people max. Did a little decorating by adding a TV and couch about seven feet behind where I'm standing. All of us were in the middle of the room with most of the lights off for effect. Except for what a overhead bulb and what was coming from everyone's favorite idiot box.

"The mask should help you think of us as part of the system that runs this poor excuss of a country."

I stop to read the id in his wallet. "Chester". I said only reading the first name. No need to be formal.

"And the system is made to steal, cheat and bleed you dry. Not the other way around."

Of course he was scared and he should be. Sweating already.

"Goddamn your dripping all over the place. Let me dry you off."

I threw a cross to his right eye. On cue Lincoln pulled his head back.

"You're getting off light…Very light."

I pulled out a photo from his wallet and watched his eyes light up.

"Won't mind getting a piece of that action. The wife and daughter got it going on." Jackson said.

"Wanna run a train on them?" Hamilton added.

"No no no no please don't them! I-I know I screwed up and I'm willing to accept the consequences, just-"

I cut him off with another cross. Don't get me wrong, I like it when they beg. but when it just goes on and on and on I get annoyed.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you're willing to accept. You're gonna take what I give. Like I said your getting off light but if I were you, I won't push my luck. Understood?'

"Y-yes sir."

"Took some serious kahunas trying to do a snatch and grab from ."

"Fucking gigantic pair." Lincoln joined in.

"But she's a reasonable woman...sometimes. She just wants to make sure you learn from your mistakes and that you don't repeat them." I continued.

I pull out a switchblade. Lincoln then yanks down Chester's pants.

"So we're gonna cut off the problem from the source"

Then I took off his underwear and was ready...when I saw some work had already been done. His dick was there and nothing else. We glanced at each other then back at our captive.

"Umm...what's wrong with this picture here Chester? Didn't think we'd be beaten to the punch. Care to elaborate? "

"Please..."

"Speak up."

"Do...whatever you're going to do."

"That was the plan until we found out we were a little late. Now all of us are curious"

"Go to hell."

I slapped him with the back of my hand. Gave him a moment to recover, then kicked him in the chest with enough force to knock him backwards to the ground. Let him have a few seconds to spit some blood.

"Well?"

"What does...what does it matters. You'll kill me anyway."

"Naw, we ain't gonna kill you. Right guys?"

"Nope"

"Not that I know of."

"Can't say it's why I got out of bed this morning."

"You see Chester?" I said. "Marquez just gave orders to fuck you up a little."

I showed his family photo again.

"She didn't mention anything about them though."

Chester let out a sigh of defeat. He shut his eyes as a tear ran down his face.

"Okay." He whispered.

"Come again?"

"You win."

"I know I won. I'm waiting on the fucking prize."

"I...sold them."

"You serious?" Hamilton sounded surprised. Shit, to be honest we were all thrown in for a loop.

"And why would you do that?"

"For my family."

"Huh. The times are more fucked up then I thought if you need to sale your body parts."

"Didn't see that coming" How much?" Jackson asked.

"$3,000."

"Per nut?"

"Total."

"Damn man. You either got ripped the fuck off or they smaller then I thought. I would've got $50,000. Each."

"$75,000 for mine." Hamilton said grabbing his crotch.

"You'd only get that if you sold all the hair off'em as a weave for the other $74,000."

There was a soft chuckling that I know pissed Hamilton off. He was about to step toward Jackson but then we saw it was really coming from Chester.

"Sounds like mine have greater value than yours." He said.

"Shit we forgot about you for a second." Hamilton responded pulling him out of his chair.

That's when we let it rain on him: Punches to the head, kicks to his back and stomach. Non-stop for almost half an hour. He was still breathing afterwards, but not moving. Jackson removed the handcuffs and put them in his pocket, which made me frown at him.

"I got a date in a few hours and I'd want to use these. Besides Mr. Gone-without-his-nuts doesn't need'em.

"Let's just dump him already." Lincoln said.

"Whoa whoa hold up. America's Next Top Model's about to come on. We'll do it after. I said.

"The hell y'all see in them pick-up sticks." Jackson complained. "They're so goddamn skinny, when you try and stick your dick in them, you probably break'em in two."

"Better than those water balloons you be with. So fucking thick and hungry all the time, I'd be scared to stick it in because I might not see my dick again." I replied.

That cracked up Lincoln and Hamilton. Jackson flipped us the bird before turning to leave.

"I'll leave you to your poor man's porn."

* * *

"Help...please...god..."

"Would you kindly shut the fuck up. Trying to watch the show."

The three of us were laid back on the couch, each with a cold beer. Watching the idiot box waiting for our favorite models to take the stage. The exercise was about a photo shot where they choose whatever career they hope to have but were too stupid to think they would really get. Most of them anyway. The most realistic was the Housewife. But with the red white plaid dress that almost came up to her crack, the red pumps and the blonde French briad ponytail, she turned Housewife into Housewhore.

"I need a doctor...please somebody..."

"Lincoln turn the volume down back there would you." I said.

"But my girl's about to come up."

"Then stop wasting time."

He rolled his eyes before picking himself up rushing his way to nutless. I didn't care. I was the top guy here and this is one of the perks. Heard two or three hits land followed by some coughing before Lincoln sat back down. His chick was a fitness trainer wearing a pink tank top and black skin-tight shorts. She had a rack on her but was too slim to have enough figure for an ass or even some nice legs.

"Shack that ass baby!" Lincoln said excitedly.

"What ass?" Hamilton objected. "In fact she so skinny I'm shocked her tits don't pull her to the ground."

"Your saying you wouldn't fuck that?"

"The tits are all I see worth fucking."

"What about her face?"

"She got braces! Where's the appeal? Or will I find it at the bottom of my drink."

"To each man's own." A voice said.

Everybody turned around. Lincoln even jumped to his feet...or tried to. Something smashed and splattered over his head and he dropped like a brick. Whatever it was that hit him sprayed a little in my face. It happen so fast but I think it was wood. I didn't have time to wipe my eyes because next the couch was forced backwards, laying me on my back. Hamilton was also on his back, trying to reach his piece when somebody's foot stomped on his face. I rolled backwards to my feet, using one hand to wipe my eyes and the other to get my gun. Took a blow to the neck that made me drop it and kneel. A pair of hands grabs the back of my suit while I'm trying to recover, pulls me up and shoves me head first into the TV.

* * *

Something wet and warm was hitting my face. It moved to the right of me then the left, and back on me again. I tried to ignore it but it kept hitting my eyes. Finally it stopped, but I was greeted by a throbbing pain in my nose. Tried rubbing it, only to find I couldn't move my arms. I looked and saw I was shackled to the wall, with Washington and Lincoln on both sides of me, shackled. In front of us was Chester, standing sideways peeing on the floor.

"You just fucking pissed on us!?" Washington started but then began coughing.

He tried yelling more but kept coughing instead. There were shards of glass in his face, then I saw the hole in the TV where the glass belonged. Chester zipped up and walked around the now lit basement, moving past the couch where pieces of the chair we had him in laid on. Probably what he hit Lincoln with. He was checking all the tools we used for malpractice: Different kinds of knifes, a few scalpels, aluminum bat, couple of hammers, one sledgehammer and a chainsaw. There was a way he was stroking his hand arcross them that made me uneasy. It was like he was reminiscing over each one. What was really bugging the hell out of me was how he carried himself. We spent a good twenty or so minutes beating the shit out of this guy: One eye closed shut, broken nose, busted face, some broken ribbs for sure, but he was walking around like he owned the place.

"If you have a fucking clue what's good for you, let us go before you dig a big enough hole your family can't climb out of!" Washington finally caught his breath. Chester ignored the threats, still eyeing the tools.

"I know you hear me! If you want a chance in hell of living though this, don't even think about touching that shit! And be thankful we weren't planning on using it.!"

"Really?" He responded while walking toward us with a knife in hand.

"You got caught stealing the boss. Her orders are too rough you up. End this now and it stops here."

"And you President Hamilton?" He asked me while stroking my face with the side of the blade.

"Nothing more than a beat down. We just brought you here 'cause it's quiet. Be smart about this Chester. You touch us your life is over."

I spoke as cool and calm as possible. Times like these you never show fear, it's a weakness.

"President Lincoln. You can verify this as well?"

"I give you my word."

"Are you sure?"

"I swear on my mother's grave. That thing about cutting off your balls was just for effect."

"Well...That's disappointing." Chester said dropping the knife.

"Say what?"

"From an organization with your status, I had hoped there would be more."

"Let's us loose and we be happy to oblige." Washington said.

"The chance has come and gone. Gave you plenty of time. Now it's my turn."

"Marquez is gonna show you a whole new fucking world of-

I swear at the speed of goddamn lighting, Chester slammed his hand on Washington's neck. No, his fingers were buried in there, blood running down them! Washington bit down on his tongue while gagging, eyes bulging. It lasted about five seconds before Chester ripped his throat out. I don't even think knew what was happening. Yelling one minute then choking and bleeding to death the next. What I saw next was even worse. He started fucking eating what he ripped out!

"What kind of sick fuck are you!?" Lincoln took the words out of my mouth. "You just killed...ain't fucking way your-

"Shut up" I shouted.

"Your telling me to shut up? You see what fuck-

"I said shut it! I'm next in rank so fall in fucking line!"

I didn't see much reason to piss Chester off. He was in control and it didn't mean jackshit if we like or not. But we're still alive so there had to be a chance. Afterwards Lincoln and I will gladly give this cocksuker what he deserves. By now I guess there's not much point going on with the president names. But what can I say? I'm came up in the era of if you got caught, you always keep your mouth shut. Call it a old habit but I rather not give out names, even if Chester already knew them.

"You know who we work for,so you know we got money" Name your price."

This whole time he was still chawing down and paid no attention to us until he finished.

"I apologize. Haven't eating anything all day. Needed something to hold me over until the main course."

"Are you saying..."

"No. I can wait until I catch up with President Jackson."

Something hits me then: Jackson took off the handcuffs. Was he in on this shit? As if he knew what I was thinking, Chester then showed a nasty cut on his left wrist that had stiches. He ripped them out and dug into the open wound, pulling out a tiny razorblade and a thin piece of a metal wire as long as my index finger.

"One for if you restrained me with rope. The other for cuffs. But this turned out easier than I expected when Jackson removed the cuffs. Still it's always better to have and not need, then to need and not have."

He was getting creeper by the minute.

"So why?" I dreaded having to ask.

"The short answer to your question is I enjoy it." He replied putting away his escape kit.

"You got your rocks off on us kicking the fuck outta you?" Lincoln asked.

"I wouldn't put that way, but yes."

"What are you - part of some fucked S&M club?"

"Those places are overrated, child's play. Not willing to go the distance. Also I like being both slave and master. Few people in the world are that...optimistic."

"$10 million. You'll have it by the end of the week." I said trying to hide my desperation.

"These tools you have here are effective but basic. If I had to guess I say you got these from the same hardware store. Nothing's wrong with that just doesn't show much creativity"

As he spoke he moved in front of the dead president, searching the pockets until he found his wallet. He took out a small clear bottle and tossed the wallet. It's strange: this room is full of shit I pry would never be used on me. but right now I was more scared of a bottle as big as my thumb.

" You can find inspiration almost anywhere. Take America's Next Top Model for example: you know what those women go through to keep their shape?"

"Diet and exercise, what else." Lincoln said.

"Bulimarexia."

He popped open the lid and brought it to my face. I tried shutting my mouth and moving my head side to side. He placed his hand on my Adam's apple and slowly squeezed until I was gasping. A drop or two went down my throat then he let go and stepped back. I felt a brief sting and suddenly throw up. Could barely hear what he was saying over my own noise.

"Ipecac. Sometimes used by undercover operatives. This comes in handy if they want to give the impression of being drunk. It will make you puke on cue, although it only works once in one setting. I manage to spice it up for repeated use. Hope it works."

I spit what vomit I had left at him. The fucker didn't seem to care.

" That very show of yours gave the idea to try it out. This would sale like hot cakes for models."

He repeated the process with Lincoln and then me again, back and forth. Kept forcing us to drink that shit until my throat was sour. I let the tears roll down my cheeks as he made me puke non-stop, getting weaker and weaker by the second. Must 've barfed up two days' worth of food. Can't tell how much time passed, but finally a miracle happened. I started choking on my own vomit. Lincoln was bagging for it to stop, crying like a baby. In any other case I'd call him a pussy. But now I can't blame him. All I could do was hope he's gets as lucky as I am.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter  
2: First of the Month

"I love you daddy."

"How much?"

"This much." He said then stretched his arms as wide as he could.

"But that's not enough."

"What is enough?" He asked looking confused.

"You're supposed to say I love you from here to the moon."

"I love you from here to the moon!"

"That's still not enough."

"Stop playing daddy!" He said giving me a little push.

"I love you too Orson."

"Let me stay with you. I hate mommy."

"Now champ, I know it hasn't been easy on you but you can't say that about  
your mom. She loves you too."

"Orson! Say goodbye already and get your little ass in this house!"

That's Candice, my cunt of an ex-wife. I guess she stepped out on the porch  
when Phil and I pulled up, but I didn't see her. Or maybe that's because I  
didn't want to see her. The expression on Orson's face told me he felt similar.

"Please please can I stay with you?"

"Sorry Orson. You gotta go with your mom."

"She's not my mom."

I can see the tears started forming in his eyes and it killed me.

"Can you keep a secret?"

He nodded. I pulled him close and whisper in his ear.

"The next time I pick you up, we'll go somewhere far away and never come  
back."

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart."

That made him smile and give me a hug.

"Now Orson!" Candice yelled.

I gave him a kiss on the cheek then he turned to run in the house, going past  
Candice without saying anything. After he was in she walks up to me.

"Singing the same sad ass song to him like you did for me Elden?"

"Don't start Candice. I'm just dropping him off and leaving."

"I don't know why you bother. Your unemployed, so you should stop wasting  
what little money you have on taking him out and save it for child  
support."

"You know I got laid off six months back. Stop talking to me as if I ain't  
trying."

"All this time we've been together and your still stuck in the same  
goddamn rut."

"When the hell was it you became so materialistic?"

"When was it you fell in love with being broke? We already lost a shit  
load of money on Orson."

"You're the one who didn't want to get pregnant! And we agreed on  
adopting!"

"You agreed. And now you're paying the cost!"

"Stop fighting!" Orson shouted from the front door.

"Get back in the fucking house!"

"Stop cursing at him!"

Then she slapped me, right in front of Orson. In front of Phil who was waiting  
on me in the car. All I could do was grind my teeth and take it...for now.

"Don't tell me what to do. Ever. And I don't care how you're gonna do it,  
but you better keep coming through with the payments, or I will call my  
sister."

She finally leaves and goes back inside. I gave one last wave to Orson and he  
waves back before Candice pushes him away and closes the door. I climb back  
into the minivan with my friend.

"I can't wait for you to show that bitch up." Phil said.

"Thanks again for driving us Phil."

"Anytime. You'll be able to afford your own ride by the end of  
today."

"Please man, just make sure nobody gets killed. Please."

"We already went over this. At the most we'll shoot their legs and that's  
it.

"I don't even want to do that much. Are you sure the manger is in?"

"My guy confirms it. Look for the most expensive suit in the joint."

"You never told me who your guy is."

"Take my word for it, you don't want to know."

"But you trust him?"

"All I know is he offered me some work. You remember what work is right?  
It's that thing we haven't had in almost a year, and possibly may never have  
again!"

"Hey, I know all about it! I'm a fucking expert on not finding a job! I'm  
just...not sure about this."

"Look I'm sorry I snapped at you. I don't want to do this shit either, but  
I need the money. I told you about the job and you wanted in. If you change  
your mind I understand."

"No. It's okay. I'm just a little worried. Let's pick up the rest of the  
boys."

The rest of the boys are my former co-workers. We were just five out of the  
twenty construction workers that they had to let go, and in this day and age  
finding another job was like winning the lottery. Then Phil gets an offer from  
some friend of his to rob a bank and steal some watch hidden in a safe deposit  
box. I guess it has sentimental value or something. That's what we were getting  
paid for but as a bonus we're getting whatever money we can from the tellers.  
All in all it should be a great pay out. Still, a life of crime was never part  
of my five year plan. That's why this is my first and last job. Afterwards I  
take Orson and get the hell out of the country. Everybody knows the score. Each  
man has a duffel bag with clothes and a gun or two, which was provide by Phil's  
guy. Arnold was waiting outside his apartment building when we pulled up.

"Goddamn Arnold. What's with the bright Hawaiian get up?" Phil asked.

"I'm dress for where I'll be by the end of the week honey. Elden, hey  
baby!"

"What's going on Arnold."

"Still thinking about you."

"Can you do me a favor and stop picturing me naked."

"Can't help it. I told you we would've been better than that Candice  
bitch."

"As charming as you are Arnold, I still rather pussy over cock."

"Can't knock it until you try it."

"I just don't see the appeal of having a cock up your shithole." Phil  
said.

"Any man is open to like it"

"Not any man."

"You enjoy taking a dump don't you?"

"Yeah..."

"I see the kind of food you eat Phil. Bet you be dropping out loads bigger  
than your penis. If it feels good to have that coming out of your butt, then  
having something go in it won't feel much worse."

"Wait a minute. I said. "So by that odd sense of logic, do you shoot  
a load every time you shit a load Arnold?"

Phil broke out laughing.

"He probably jerks off while he's sitting on the john."

Now everybody's laughing. Arnold can take a joke as good as he gives one. He's  
always a fun guy to hang out with, but I'm still wary about getting wasted with  
him. We were almost at Pete's place when we notice a police car came behind us  
and turned on its siren. My heart was already racing.

"Oh fuck. I gotta pull over." Phil said.

"But...what if they ask to search the car?" Arnold asked.

"We're coming up on an ally I'll park by. If anything happens we'll have  
to-"

"You said nobody gets killed!" I almost shouted.

"We'll just have to wound them. Maybe stuff them in the trunk of their car  
or something. I don't know. Right now everybody keep cool. It might be  
nothing."

When the cop car parked behind us, we were somewhat relieved it was only one  
person. But the feeling passed after I saw who it was.

"You gotta be kidding me. Is that Brittney?" Phil asked.

"Yep. My ex-wife's big goddamn sister."

"You know what she wants?"

"She's here to screw with me."

Brittney got out her car and came toward us. I didn't waste any time and got  
out so I can get this shit over with.

"Did I tell you to step out sir?"

"I know your here for me Brittney so stop fucking around."

"I'm only going to tell you once sir. Please return to your vehicle."  
She replied resting a hand on her holster.

Didn't have much choice but to play her game. I couldn't afford to get busted.  
Not today. Phil rolled down his window and had his ID on hand. Arnold hid his  
bag from view as best he could.

"You know why I pulled you over?"

"Can't say I do officer."

"Someone in your car matches a profile of a suspect." She looks at  
me. "Can you step out of the car sir."

I did what I was told and she stepped in front of me.

"You have your ID on you sir?"

"Yes."

"May I see it please?"

I hand it to her. She looks at it for a few minutes then back at me, pretending  
to studying it.

"Well Elden, your ID looks like a fake to me. I have to take it with me  
and have it checked out."

"Can't you look it up in your car's computer?"

"That computer seems to have a virus in it."

"Why do I even bother."

"Come again?"

"Your sister left me, Brittney. Why can't you leave me too?"

"I noticed some bags in the car. Planning on leaving?"

"To get away from Candice and you, hell yes! But I'd never leave  
Orson."

"You're not going anywhere without proper ID. But just to be sure, why  
don't you open up one of those bags."

The guys and I looked at one another, trying to figure out our next move. We  
might have to take this as far as Phil suggested. But in Brittney's case I  
almost wanted to.

"I don't have all day."

"They belong to Arnold."

"Ok. Arnold can you step out and show your bags?"

He came out but left the bags.

"Unless you have a warrant officer, I don't have to show you  
anything."

"It wasn't a request Arnold." She said while pulling out her  
Nightstick.

"I know you're not going to touch me with that honey."

Nope. Instead she touched me with it pretty hard in the gut. I drop to my knees  
groaning in pain.

"You're right. But I'll have to run in Elden since he fits the  
description."

Arnold looked at me and I gave him the nod. We're gonna take her down. As  
Arnold went to grab a bag I rose to my feet, looking at Phil and nodding. I  
knew he had his gun on him. Arnold came back out and dropped one of the bags.  
Brittney bent down and opened the zipper. On top were clothes that she eyed up  
and down before putting her hand inside. The three of us are ready to make our  
move.

"All units! Be advised there has been a reported shooting at a pharmacy on  
47th street. Suspects are on foot."

Saved by the goddamn bell. If there's anything Brittney loves more than making  
my life difficult, it's chasing down bad guys. She rushed back to her car.  
Because she was in a hurry I thought I'd wave her off with one finger. Phil and  
Arnold followed suit as she drove off.

"The fuck did you ever see in her sister?" Arnold asked.

"I wish I could remember."

"It's gonna be a little harder for you getting out of town. She's got your  
ID."

"Don't worry about it. If she was any good at being a cop, she'd see the  
ID actually is fake. It's not the first time Brittney pulled this shit on  
me."

"Come on." Phill said. "Let's round up the guys and get this  
show on the road."

_

Been a long time since I last operated in the states. Can't say I missed it.  
This country seems to get uglier each time I visit. Not because of the  
Depression. All that's done was strip away the surface to the rot waiting  
underneath. Not that it's much better in most parts of the world. Some of my  
more sophisticated assignments have taken place here, another reason I'm not  
too enthusiastic. Still, the pay is good and the only reason I'm walking into  
Diamondback bank. While my target is present, I've already scheduled the  
execution in a few days. The second part of the objective is to steal a watch  
the manger has in a safety deposit box. Privately owned by the manger. I have  
the schematic of the building memorized and the dossiers of everyone working  
here.

Security is a five man team. They were all obese but I can tell they knew how  
to handle themselves. Doesn't matter much but good to know never the less. The  
coloring was different from most banks. Lighter and darker shades of blue  
squares on the floor and ceiling while the walls were diamond shape gray.  
Somewhat tacky. Probably the manger's idea based on his profile. Vincent  
Farentino didn't own the bank but ran it otherwise. His obsessive and egotistic  
behavior has made co-workers wary of him. Three tellers have quit because they  
couldn't stand him. Still he handles business exceptionally well. My homework  
is done, but there's always something new to learn from hands on recon that  
can't be found in a file.

As I come in I look at all sighs and read booklets as if it's my first time in  
here. This allowed me to check the surrounds before the guards would start  
paying attention. One of them went on break with a teller in the basement where  
the vault is located. The others simply walk the floor. All of them are working  
double shifts and it showed. Farentino was in his office screaming on a phone.  
Five minutes later he slammed down the receiver and stormed toward the  
bathroom. I'm about to have a sit down with a banker and use my cover ID to-

(Gunshot) "Everybody on the floor now! Now goddamnit!"

Instinctively I push the banker off her chair and crouch behind her desk, then  
stick my head out for a quick look. There were five of them dressed in black  
sweatshirts, black jeans and military boots, all wearing ski mask. Whenever  
there's a change in plans I assume the worst. My first thought was that they  
were a hit team and I almost draw my Silverballers. I stop myself when I hear  
more shouting then shooting. It was a standoff between them and the guards. Two  
of them have hostages and are threating to kill them if security refuses to  
surrender. Ten more seconds of yelling and they fire a shot into one of the  
captives' leg. After this the guards decide to lower their weapons, which  
surprises me.

"What in the flying fu-"

That was Farentino before one of the masked men knocked him to the ground with  
the butt of his gun. That seems to piss him off, as evidence of him still  
screaming at them. It earned him a few kicks to the ribs until he shut up. They  
started rounding up the tellers from their stations and bringing them to the  
main floor. One of them picked up Farentino and was moving him towards my  
position. Again I thought about taking them out but there are two things making  
me hesitate: They outnumber and outgun me...somewhat. If this was indeed a hit  
squad they'd be better armed. Instead, between the five of them there's two  
Kel-Tec P32/P3ATs, a rather cheap pistol type who's price can be anywhere  
between $318 to $382. Less than that if your buying from a black-market. Its  
small size makes it very easy to conceal but due to a small mag and limited  
power, it's best suited as a last choice defense weapon.

Another one was a Taurus Public Defender Polymer .410/45lc. A better choice but  
far from an ideal assault firearm. There were also a double-barreled saw-off  
shotgun and an American Tactical imports SMG. This group was under a tight  
budget, which made it seem they were only here to rob the bank. Still no matter  
the arsenal, they were a threat. The second problem was that if I eliminated  
them, it would draw attention to me. There are at least twenty witnesses who'd  
see me as a hero. Win or lose, both paths have unwanted outcomes. I decide to  
do nothing and watch for now. They pull me from my hiding place behind the desk  
and drag me to the floor with everyone else. I did my best to act afraid.

"Please no! Please don't hurt me!"

They laid Farentino next to me and moved on to the cash registers. If that's  
all they're here for they should be able to escape before police arrive,  
provided they don't get greedy. One of them went downstairs, came back up with  
the teller and guard on break, and then went back down to the vault. I needed  
to resolve this. Their presence compromised the mission. I was wearing my black  
suit, white striped shirt and red tie, so the robbers assumed I wasn't armed.  
How was I going to use this?

"These piss ants are in a world of shit they don't know about."  
Farentino said.

An idea just came to mind. Not a great one, but I had to take the chance or  
risk blowing the mission.

"Psst. ." I whispered.

"Can't you see I'm being robbed?"

"FBI. I can stop this but I need your help."

"FBI? What are you waiting for, just shoot them already."

Watching the mask men, I slowly pull out one of my ballers and hand it to him.

"The hell are you giving me this?"

"I need you to play along with what I'm about to do. When I look at you  
and nod, that'll be your signal."

"Why am I doing your fucking job?"

"Please keep your voice low . I have another gun on me. When I  
give the signal I'll make my move, and if you want to save your bank I suggest  
you back me. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah I got it."

"Alright where the fuck is Vincent Farentino?" One of them demanded.

I raised my hand.


	3. Chapter 3

(3)…And Last of the Month

I still can't believe I'm doing this! Why the hell did Phil have to shoot that guy? It was only in the leg but still! The guards were already bought off, and how did I get stuck with one of the world's smallest guns? "Since you don't plan on shooting anybody you shouldn't give a fuck" Phil had told me. I guess he had a point. I don't know much about pistols but I still wouldn't mind something a little bigger. You get what you pay for I guess. But enough of that. Another ten minutes then we're gone, so I'll save my pissing and moaning for later. Time to get the manger. At first I thought the loud mouth coming from the restroom was Farentino, but a bald guy who showed his hand had on the more expensive looking suit. I pick him up and push him toward the stairway to meet Phil at the vault.

"Hello ." Phil said circling him. "You're not quite what I expected. What's with the barcode tattoo?"

"One of life's lessons: Never mix cocaine, alcohol and intoxicated friends togather. You'll end up with the serial number from a bottle of Courvoisier on the back of your head."

"Ha, didn't take you for the type to party that hard. Why not try to have it removed?"

"Their next paycheck will remove it."

"Really? With a suit like that I wouldn't think you'd be hard up for cash."

"It's...a rental." Wearing it for a funeral."

"Depending on what you do now, you'll either be late or right on time. Open it."

I knew Phil was getting a kick out of playing tough guy, probably practiced in a mirror. I'm not gonna lie, he wasn't bad at it. I just wish he speed the fuck up with it. Besides I don't think barcode baldie was really intimidated. Sure he acted like he was but it just doesn't feel one hundred percent genuine. If you look at his eyes you won't see any fear what-so-ever. Now I'm not some master of horror or anything but...it's just something about this guy's aura that makes me nervous. Took a moment but he opened the safety deposit box. Another minute and...oh Jesus Christ! I think I hear sirens!

"Cops! Get up here now!" Arnold shouted.

_

Fear was something I haven't felt since childhood. Surprisingly it was more difficult to portray than expected. I made a note to stumble over my words but didn't. Producing sweat or tears would help, but that wasn't going to happen. Tried to keep forcing my hands to shake as I opened the deposit box. Already lifted Farentino's key during our chat on the floor. I may be acting overly compliant and I'm certain at least one of them didn't buy it. This is something I should work on. Then again this is the first time I ever needed to act afraid on a contract, and hopefully the last. Police sirens started ringing and one of them shouted from the main floor. They grab me and run upstairs. The hostages and guards were still face down on the ground.

"I thought your guy had the alarms covered! The fuck is this!"

They move past me to see outside. Based on what one of them just said it's clear they have, or were suppose have inside help. Have to check up on that later. I stood there with my hands up and watch them argue. Finally a phone rings. They were either too busy yelling at one another to notice or simply choose to ignore it. Regardless, it was time to make my next move. I look over at Farentino who in turn was watching me and nod at him. He immediately climbed to his feet and fired at the robbers. I reach in my jacket and pretend I was going to pull my baller, then duck behind the nearest desk and grab a phone.

"Please help us! They're shooting everyone!

"Sir, I need you to calm down and tell us-"

"There's five of them and they're walking around killing us! Six dead already!"

"Sir if you could please-"

"I think it's terrorist! They say they're going to make the police look bad on the news for their slow response time. Oh my god they see me! All of them are coming at me in the back! Now's your chance. Please no-"

I position the receiver so the gunshots can be heard as clear as possible, then take a quick peek. Two of them were wounded on the floor. The other three found cover, as did Farentino, and were exchanging bullets. He quickly emptied the baller and was screaming for me to help. I fade into the shadows and wait.

_

I couldn't tell you how the fuck everything went downhill so fast. First the cops show up, and then while I was scolding Phil and the others, some asshole starts shooting us! Arnold and Pete got hit. I trip over one of the hostages and hit the floor, but I manage to hold on to my gun. I lay there not knowing what to do or what was going on. I've never been in a gunfight in my life. In no way am I a trained soldier with super speed and reflexes. I stayed frozen where I was until I felt someone dragging me behind a desk. Phil and Joseph did all the shooting. Soon the fucker ran out of ammo and went to finish him off. I crawl over to our wounded. Pete...is gone. Arnold is hit bad in his shoulder, rolling from side to side.

"Give me something to cover this with!"

Phil goes over to a hostage and rips off their shirt and brings it to me. I use it to rap over the wound as best I could.

"Just hang in there! You're gonna be fine."

"Shit! Shit! I'm so sorry man!" Phil cried.

"Just shut up and fig-"

"Police! Drop your weapons!"

They stormed through the doors full force. Out of fear I aim my gun. Phil and Joseph were already had cover while I stayed kneeled by Arnold. Why am I even bothering? It's over. I didn't want to die, and I wanted get Arnold to a hospital. Maybe a few years down the line I'll see Orson again. At least I won't have...you gotta be fucking joking! What are fucking chances that I see none other than Britney in the goddamn SWAT! She'd be more than happy to haul my ass away, probably to meet some of her buddies in jail. There would never be a moment's peace. I wasn't thinking anymore. The sight of that bitch was enough to make me aim at her and squeeze the trigger.

_

"It's safe to come in Detective."

"I don't need you to hold my goddamn hand. What have we got?"

"Five dead bad guys. Armed with some rather light artillery. I mean this is the kind of crap better used to knock off liquor stores. None of them have priors. I guess they thought this was a get rich quick scheme."

"Fucking idiots. Casualties?"

"The manger Vincent Farentino. They gave him a face full of buckshot, must've pissed'em off. We found an empty gun on him so he probably shot the two preps before SWAT came in. Sons of bitches took down one of our own-Britney Wright. Fucked up thing I don't get was when the shooting started, all of them were aiming at her."

"Do more background checks, see if there's some story behind it. Anyone else? the guy on the phone said six dead."

"No other bodies have been found Detective. He was probably freaking out from the shooting. All in all it looks like a clean case of a robbery gone wrong. Or right depending on who you are."

"Cameras?"

"Should have them any minute."

"Alright, I need to take a leak. Where's the bathroom?"

"I'll walk with you; I need to use the can too."

"Diamond shape marble walls. A bit much for a bathroom."

"Looks kind of nice to me."

"That's why I get the big bucks Sergeant."

"Because you like cheap shit? I'm a head into this stall and let you hear what I think of your opinion."

"That's no way to talk to your superior of- (Bang, bang).

Finally I could pull myself out of the vent above one of the bathroom stalls. It was such a tight fit I had to remove my suit. Sliding out was tricky. First I dropped my silenced baller to the floor, then landed on the toilet seat with my hands before positioning myself upright. Immediately I locked the entrance door, and then check the bodies. Two carefully placed shots to their heads with no blood on the clothes. One was wearing a SWAT uniform. That would have been the easier disguise to assume, but I wanted the higher ranking officer. He had on a tan colored trench coat over a white shirt with a black tie and black pants. He also had on sunglasses that would help. There are two problems: He is much heavier than me and has an army style buzz cut complete with a thick mustache.

Fortunately his facial hair was thick enough to cut it off as a whole. There's no glue or tape to make it stick. I check the coat again. Its looks tan enough against my face to almost not be seen, so I cut some of the smallest threads possible to tie it around my head. Put on the skull cap the SWAT member had. As for the weight I'd wear a fat man suit, but that wasn't an option. Today I needed to use...clothes. Hated that I had to ruin the perfect creases in my suit, however this sometimes happens with my line of work. My suit filled the role of the body fat, needed more for the legs. I used some of the SWAT's outfit. Last I check the IDs. My name is Detective Nick Anderson with Sergeant Michael Eisenberg.

I place the bodies in a stall and head out the door. Thought about cleaning the blood, but couldn't tell how much time was available before someone knocked. The best that could be done was locking the door as I left. The police all nodded their heads or said Detective as I passed by. First I went back to the safety deposit box that was still open. Just a simple matter of waiting for no one to be looking before pocketing the watch. With both objectives completed it was time to retrieve my other Sliverballer. The forensic team hasn't left yet meaning my weapon was nearby.

"Where you'd put the piece found on Farentino?" I asked one of them, speaking in a deep raspy voice.

"We moved it out to our van. Sir what's wrong with your voice?"

"Got a sour throat. Which van did you say?"

"The one parked closest to the bank. The camera footage is there too."

"Good work."

"Hum sir? If you want-"

"That's it for now."

Three minutes later I was inside the back of the van. Two officers were watching the video while eating donuts. The box was nearly empty.

"Who the hell ate all the donuts?" I said with the same voice.

"Hey we left a couple."

"You got all the jellyrolls prick. Both of you take a break and get some more."

"The hell's up with your voice Nick?"

"Need more jellyrolls for my sour throat, and address me as sir or Detective."

"Alright, we're leaving. When you grow a stick up your ass?"

They get out and I have the place to myself. Doesn't take long to locate the baller. That with the videotape and I'm done. Anderson's keys suggest he drives a Camry. I was nearly there when someone calls behind me. Turning around with my hand on a baller, I'm ready. It's one of the forensic people I spoke to.

"Detective!" I got some cough drops I thought might help."

"Thanks. They'll be bringing donuts back soon. Tell them I said they're for your team."

That seems to make him smile.

"Why thanks sir! Hey I wanted to ask about-"

I got in the car and drove off.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Not Exactly a Nine To Five

"She'll be here any minute Delio! Put away the cigarettes so you don't smell like smoke!"

"Nothing to worry about Andre, I'm good."

"Don't lie to her like you do yourself. Try to relax."

He was right but it didn't make me feel better. I force myself to put out cigarette and stuff pack in pocket. Blow in palm of my hand and smell smoke along with cheeseburger I ate this morning. As if on cue, Maverick handed me a pack of Tic-tacs.

"Thanks."

My girl Maverick. She comes through when she knows I need it. To clarify, she is not girlfriend, only a partner. As is Andre. We were sitting outside a cafe shop under a large white umbrella. Andre and I sat across each other while Maverick sat at table next to us. Out of the three of us, she was best dressed for the occasion: Fixing her straight black hair down to her shoulders over her light green business jacket and black blouse, with black business pants and Hill boots. For Asian women she is surprisingly tall, about six-one I think.

Andre has a muscular build he loves showing off whenever possible. Today he wears one of his favorite silk gold colored short sleeve shirts and black silk pants. We're here for interview yet he dresses for a date. Andre was even arrogant enough to bring a flower. I had a stroke of shitty luck when washer machine fucked most of my suit. As such I had on a white pin striped shirt with a purple tie. A pair of black jeans and black and white colored Sketchers. The best I could do on short notice.

Three person clean-up crew and I are not talking about brooms, dust mopes or cleaning up piss. More like bloodstains, dead bodies and fingerprints. In a way we are janitors. Most expensive type of janitors and goddamn good at it. But still I was nervous. Just a small time team trying to get in big leagues and this is the biggest. Some say give me the fortune and fuck the fame, but it's the other way around. To get fortune we first need fame. When word gets out who we work for, they'll be job offers left and right.

"Shit here she comes...and she is hot." Andre pointed out.

"Good afternoon everyone. As you have guessed, I am Diana Burnwood. I see you have arrived early, which is good. On the field you will need to be on time however."

"Yes, of course . I can always be punctual." Andre said.

He stood up in front of her, handing his rose. Maverick and I waited to see can of worms he just opened for himself. But to our shock she accepted it and smiled. I thought he'd lost points, but maybe it's same as bringing apple for schoolteacher. Then he extended his hand, no doubt hoping to kiss hers. The look on her face was enough of a hint to quit while ahead, and he sat back down, turning his chair to face her. She sat down at table behind Andre. The waiter appeared and placed a tea cup on her table then left. As if he already knew she was coming and what she drank.

"I'm always on the lookout for experienced contractors. You come highly recommend by way of Margaux Leblanc. Says you've done a rather fine job cleaning up the...mess in the bookstore that was in the news."

"Thank you ." I said.

"Thank your clients. I have yet to see your work."

"That means we have job?"

"We'll see. First the ground rules: As you know we work internationally. When our agents are on the field you will be shipped out to the same city. You will be notified if your assistance is required or not, in which case you may return home. Now I have a question - Can you handle solo assignments?"

"We prefer to work as team . A packaged deal." I replied.

"I understand, and that is acceptable. Now Delio Gavanski. It is to my knowledge you have issues concerning a gambling problem."

"Uh, yes but..."

"Be certain your personal and professional lives never cross, ."

"Yes ma'am."

"Maverick Wei. I don't see many women in this line of work. I'm a bit curious to hear from you."

Mav bowed her head and showed a small smile. I already knew what was coming and ready to intercept.

"She doesn't speak English I'm afraid."

"I get the impression she doesn't speak much at all. No matter, social skills aren't required. I won't pry, as long as the past remains where it is."

Mav bowed again.

"Andre Neskoromny. You have a solid track record. You wish to work for me?"

"Absolutely." He replied in his 'sexy' voice.

"Then I recommend you not make passes at your employer. If we should meet again, wear something less casual."

"Umm yeah, Understood !"

I had to cover my mouth to swallow laughter. Mav shook her head. Burnwood finished her cup and got up. Time to make the pitch.

"I'll be in contact."

"Wait . Something else we want to ask...would it be possible to clean up for agent 47?"

Those words made her pause and stare at us.

"No. It will not be possible. He's had poor experience with cleaners in the past and has opted to do it himself."

"We are best at what we do ma'am. If he can see us in action he won't be disappointed."

"You want recognition. To be the first clean-up crew in years to ever work for the notorious agent 47."

She read me as an open book. I didn't know what to say next.

"Your ambition is not the issue . Agent 47 does not require your service. If that is all then I must be on my way."

"Wait! We're willing to pay $70,000. For a chance to show our skills."

My team stared at me wondering what the hell I was doing. We agreed we wanted this but trying to bride Burnwood was never brought up, especially with most of our lifesavings. But our chances were going downhill and the way I see it, couldn't hurt to try right?

"No thank you . Next time be sure Ms. Wei and are on broad with your proposition."

"They are."

Andre rolled his eyes a let out a sigh. "Fine." He said annoying.

Mav put a hand across her forehead and rubbed it a few seconds. I showed her the most loving face I could muster, which probably looks like shit. Even I though think my face is ugly. She flipped me the bird while nodding to Burnwood."

"It's refreshing to see loyalty. Still the answer has not changed."

"$90,000."

"Never wager more than you can afford to lose ."

"Please run this by him. See what he says."

"He may simply take your money, leaving you high and dry. The three of you are certain you wish to risk this?"

"100%"

"Very well. I'll explain your offer to him."

"Yes! Yes! Thank you!"

"I don't see the reason to get excited . I think your throwing away your team's money. Possibly their lives as well."

"Hold on a second, what do you mean our lives?" Andre asked.

Just then her cellphone started ringing. She answered it and told the caller she was wrapping a meeting and call back in a few minutes before hanging up.

"That's all the time I have for today."

"What about what you just said?" Andre asked.

"Save your questions for another time . It was a pleasure meeting you all. Goodbye now."

_

"I apologize for the delay 47. Didn't expect to hear from you so soon. Is there a change in the plan?"

"The plans obsolete and the objective is completed." I replied.

"I'm surprise to hear this 47. I thought we scheduled for Thursday."

"I was doing recon when a group decided to try and rob the place."

"Oh my. How did you handle it?"

"Made the most of the situation. Farentino's been eliminated and the watch was been retrieved. And the surveillance tape."

"Witness?"

"No. Their all face down the entire time."

"So we're done."

"Unfortunately not."

"I was afraid you'd say that. What wrong?"

"Noticed a lack of commitment from security and questioned them about it. They were all paying Poker at the time. One mentioned the name Gabriel Aquila."

"That's the client."

There used to be a time when I accepted contracts without caring to know the client's history, beyond the obvious. As time has passed however, the business has become more cutthroat. Now I leave no facts unturned. I knew where to find Gabriel Aquila.

"I'll pay him a visit after I'm done with security." I told Diana.

"Actually I'd want to talk with him myself if you don't mind."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"There is one other thing I'd like to bring to your attention. A trio cleaning group has requested an audience with you."

"I handle my own cleaning Diana."

"They're paying $90,000."

"Sounds like they impressed you, otherwise you'd send them home."

"They have a strong track record. There is potential. You need someone to cover for you when you can't."

"I make time."

"47 I know things haven't worked with the last one in London..."

"He was too much of an idiot to realize which side of the street to drive on."

"I can't tell you they are without flaws, but I'm certain that unfortunate incident will fail to repeat itself."

"I know it won't."

"I don't doubt you 47, but even you have to admit that part of the job can sometimes become tedious.

My preference is to avoid dealing with outsiders' altogether. Still as the years pass on and the world presents new challenges, it's become evident the key to survival is forming alliances, making "Friends". That's also what gets you killed, but there's no alternative. And Diana is right. Never the less I wasn't ready to trust them.

"Send me their files and I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask 47." She replied sweetly.

Even on the phone I can see the smile spreading across her face.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Exceptions to the Rule

The Red Ford just parked in a driveway in a suburb. The target and his family stepped out, crowding together as they walked into their home. The man I'm here for is named Chester Snowden, from the ID he left behind in basement along with three corpses. The causes of death are...rare. The ring leader had his throat ripped out. There was an excessive amount of vomit and blood on the floor by the other two. One choked to death on it and the last died from a severe loss of protein. There was a fourth man in the group but he's missing. This was more than enough to warrant caution. The contract is two million alive and one for dead.

I'm a little surprised Marquez didn't turn to my "brother" 47, but at the same time I didn't care. Because he seemed too often be the first choice for many contracts, it is necessary I remain anonymous to clients. Whatever her reasons are irrelevant. My goal is to capture the target. I estimated the best time to do so is when he is having dinner with his love ones. Tie them up and gag them and so long as they are unharmed he should come quietly. Easier to walk him out then carry him. Less suspicious for any wondering eyes. It was strange: I would have thought he'd try to flee, yet here he was about to enjoy a meal.

Perhaps he believed to be in the clear. I store away my Cheytac M-310 Sniper in the trunk and arm myself with a CMMG 7.3/M7 and a Kel-Tec PMR-30. Both weapons can be concealed in my jacket. The curtains are open so I can see them all sitting at the dinner table. I walk up and ring the bell. I'm hoping the husband would answer, instead it's the wife. There's a fearful expression on her face. I show her my Kel-Tac and ask her to invite me in. With a hand on her shoulder I walk behind as she leads me into the living room. The children, a boy and girl who look between the ages of 9 and 15, were sitting at the end closest to me while the target sat at the head.

The children had tears running down their cheeks, but I've only just arrived. Why are they...It's not me they're frighten of.

"Only one?" Chester said. "You must be so-"

I fired at him over 's shoulder while he was speaking. He seemed ready for it and ducked under the table. As I aimed I saw the kids drop two grenades that they happen to be holding under the table. Still using as a shield, I back away as quickly as possible. Not fast enough to escape the explosion.

Eyes full of blood, ears ringing. I take a minute to suppress the shock, then push the person on top of me aside, wipe my eyes and stand up. protected me from most of the blast, but still caught some shrapnel in my left side. Couldn't take the time to address the wound. The Kel-Tac was lost, so I pulled out the CMMG and went hunting for the target. I'm bleeding and have a concussion, not to mention short on time, someone had to have called the police, so I tried to move fast. That was my next mistake. The target charged me from the right and forced me against a wall. Underneath the torn pieces of his Xmas sweater, I could see he was wearing a Flak Jacket.

I gripped the gun tightly as I knew that would be the first thing he'd go for, and he did. Instead of trying to wrestle it out of my hand, he grabbed hold of the clip and snatched it out in a single motion. I head-butted him which knocked him off balance, then shove him away. Chester is still on his feet and too close to make use of the remaining bullet. I go on the offensive, hitting him across the head with the butt of the CMMG. Another blow to the stomach then finishing off the combo with an uppercut that knocks him down. Targeting his forehead I fire the last shot. He hugged his head with both arms, soaking the shot, seemly moving just as I pulled the trigger.

He sweeps out my legs dropping me to the ground. I don't waste time getting up and dropping the gun in the process, knowing I won't get the chance to reload. Chester already beat me back up and tries to tackle me, but I stay on my feet. Still I'm forced through a pair of glass doors then stop against a counter. Operating on instinct, I slam an elbow on his back, followed by a knee strike that knocks him upward, then two quick secession punches sending him to the floor. As he recovers I look for anything that can be used as a weapon, coming across a kitchen knife in the sink. He's up again trying to acquire one of his own but I don't give him the chance. Lunging forward I manage to slice his throat, but he just barely avoided it.

The cut wasn't deep enough to be fatal so I keep charging. He's fast, able to evade my attacks. Keep going for his neck or midsection and still missing, but I'm using the momentum to force him in a corner. Now I have him against the counter. Moving for his throat again, he dodges it, but my strike was a ruse that I redirect and nailed down his right hand and he yells for a brief moment. I throw a quick elbow slam to the nose to try and stun him, then move to his left side and prepare to break his arm. Before I could do so however, Chester somehow forced his bladed hand free and before I knew what was happening, he span around and slammed it in my lower back.

I grunted in pain, and then hit him again with my left elbow. He drops to one knee. Using his open palm with the blade stuck in it, he stabs me again in the back of my left thigh, forcing me down on one leg. He got up and tried punching me with the bladed hand but I block it, ripped the knife out and plunge it into his stomach. Only got it in an inch before he stops me. We struggle with it with poor results. I've lost a lot of blood and getting weaker. Chester pulls it from my hands and places me in a sleeper hold. I fight as long as I can before blacking out.

Am I dead? Or dying? I open my eyes and the world is a blur. I'm in a seated position and try to move but can't. Something's restraining me. Unable to make out what yet. Strangely enough I feel relaxed. And very sluggish.

"640509-040117."

Everything was so distorted it seems like the voice was coming from everywhere.

"You lost a great deal of blood but you'll survive. Only the strong do."

Slowly my vision starts to clear. The target Chester was sitting in front of me. Other than a black pair of pants with no socks or shoes, he had on only wraps and bandages. Mainly his hand, forearms, and across his torso. His face was still bruised which told me I haven't been here long. Can't tell where here is yet. Only seeing triple. From what I can make out I'm chained to a Love Seat which is chained to a radiator. My left arm is connected to an IV.

"Morphine. Help you get comfortable and to keep you from thinking straight."

It was working well. Trying to focus became a serious challenge. It took a lot of energy checking my surroundings. There was a fireplace behind where he was sitting. A few feet to the left was a twirling staircase, further left was a kitchen. To the right is a dark red Futon. In front of it was a television, and to the far right was a door. The floor was covered with white fur carpet. There are some small splatters of blood on it. He's either careless or doesn't live here. He simply sat there and waited until I was done and returned my gaze on him.

"Wondering why you're still alive?"

I stay quiet and let him do all the talking.

"It's my own fault. Told myself I would kill everyone who showed up at the Snowden's residence. I was expecting she'd send a small army, but you're far better. Something special. I saw you and got greedy, breaking the rules."

Despite his current advantage, I didn't even detect the slightest hint of arrogance. In fact he seemed...respectful. Chester takes out the photo I had of him and his "family".

"Took a little incentive to make them look happy in this picture. Removed and took his place. " Had a few weeks to warm my way into their hearts."

He left the wallet on purpose, knowing someone would track it. Used the Snowden family as bait. A bizarre but effective tactic. There's more to this man then I thought. He gets up and goes to the refrigerator, gets a bottle of something and comes back. It seemed as though he was going to try an interrogation tactic to make me speak. Instead he only took a sip before placing the cap back on.

"While I am curious about the significance of 640509-040117, it can wait. Got a date coming up with . We'll continue this conversation in due time. Meanwhile get some rest."

He increased the morphine dosage enough to make it impossible to keep my eyes open.

* * *

Finesses. That's the only word I could use to describe how this chick looks. Not sexy, not hot, not beautiful or gorgeous. She was FINESSE incarnate. Normally I like my girls to be slutty but one look at her when she got off the elevator made me want to change my habits. It was my job to frisk her, had to make sure she didn't have a gun. Took my time going over her lady limbs. I expected her to try and slap me afterwards, but she just smiled and even winked at me. That caught me off guard. Maybe I'll get her number after the meetings over. I walk her into the office where she takes a seat in front of the bosses desk. I stand by the door with my co-workers. I'm Clive by the way, but we'll talk more about me later, want to hear what my boss and the lady have to discuss.

"Welcome to my hotel . Is there anything we can get you?"

"No thank you . I'm here to ask a few questions regarding our most recent business arrangement."

"It's finished with. What more do you want to know?"

"An attempted robbery took place. Do you know anything about this?"

"I read about that in the paper. I'm glad it didn't hinder the contract in anyway. But what does this matter now ? What's done is done."

"My agent was present at the time. He and I wish to avoid this issue again in the future."

"You're suggesting I'm withholding information or...had a hand in this ? We've done good business together in the past. Why would I do anything to jeopardize that?"

"I'm not accusing you . Only asking if you know something I don't on the matter. Rather you do or not will have no impact on our working relationship."

"I'm glad to hear that. I wish there was more to offer you."

"Very well. Thank you for your time."

She gets up and turns to leave.

"Wait, that's the end of it?"

"I appreciate your cooperation."

"In that case, couldn't we have spoken over the phone?"

"It's best to ask this type of question in person. A man of your experience understands I'm sure."

"I do. However..."

"We look forward to repeat business in the future . I hope that puts your concerns to rest. Have a pleasant day."

And just like that she's out the door and down the elevator.

"You okay boss?" I asked.

"I want everyone working double shifts for the next few days."

"Got it. Think she's gonna be a problem?"

"Burnwood's hard to read. Get the car ready, we're going to the safe house."

I get on my cell and make the call downstairs for the car. Then we all head into the elevator. I'm thinking about the feel of that chick's figure. If only you could have seen her face-

"The hell?" One of my co-workers said.

Before I even had to ask I felt it: The elevator suddenly speeded up! Next thing I know I'm on the fucking ceiling! I looked at the floors we were passing going down. 17,16,15,14,13,12,11,10,9...then we started to slow down. I hit the floor face first. it was even more painful when people landed on top of me.

"Ahhhhhhh! Christ...fuck!"

We laid there for a good five minutes before trying to get up. One man stayed down. Checking on him I see he's still breathing. We stopped on the first floor. Tried getting out, only to find that the door's stuck.

"I put too much money in this building for shit like this to happen! Call maintence now!

I grab the elevator's emergency phone and dial but can't hear anything on the other line.

"It's dead sir. I'll try-"

"Is everyone all right?" An overhead voice asked.

"Burnwood?" What is this?" My boss replied.

"I'm afraid our conversation is not yet concluded Mr. Aquila. During the investigation of the robbery, your name was mentioned. Could you fill in the gaps for me?"

"Call the police, the fire department or whoever the hell can get us out Clive!"

"You should be aware by now they can't help you ."

As if on cue the elevator started going up.

"Already told you what I know! What else do you want me to say? Are you fucking hearing me Burnwood!?"

She kept quite until we reached the top floor.

"Ready for another ride?"

"Oh SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTT TTTTTTTTTT"

Back to the ceiling again followed by the floor. Cracked my head and spit out some teeth. Didn't bother to get up this time. Once again were riding to the top.

"Fuck alright! I'll tell you! It was Serge Kayaru! That Freedom Fighter guy on the news!"

"Serge?"

At last the joy ride came to an end. The way she said his name I got the feeling she knew him. Personally I mean.

"Yes. He asked me to hire you and set up the robbery. I owned him a favor so I did it. I don't know why he wanted it that way."

"Thank you . I have one other request before you're free to leave. The gentlemen who frisked me? I would like you to retire him. Indefinitely."

"Fuck that!" I shouted, trying to stand up. Pulled out my Canik 55. I knew my boss well enough that he would save his own skin over his guards any day.

"Keep away! Anybody touches me and-"

I felt the joy ride moving again. I shouldn't have looked up. That's when I felt the bullets rip through me. "Sorry Clive." That was the last thing I heard. Fuck 'em. Fuck you too if your cheering for that bitch.

What do you guys think so far? Too long to finish or too dark for your taste? Should I keep posting more chapters? Any feedback is welcomed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Assassination 101

"Can I assume everything is in place for tonight or is that also too much a task as well?"

"No ma'am, we're good to go."

"Well at least you can organize properly."

"Ma'am I told you, we're doing everything we can to find the son of a bi-"

"You've already been warned that I don't approve of foul language."

"Sorry."

"I have no use for apologies. Put more thought into your chose of words."

"Yes ma'am. So far we haven't turned up anything new on this Chester character yet but-"

"Because you and that other hitman failed, I'm forced to turn to Mr.47. If he can do your job, there's not much use for you is there?"

I decided to wait instead of responding.

"If you wish to redeem yourself, you'll find a way to deal with 47 after he takes out Chester. Am I in anyway unclear?"

"No ma'am."

"So it'll be finished in a month."

"Uhhh…Well..."

"Your dismissed."

Rita Marquez has been on a short fuse lately over Chester Snowden. There doesn't seem to be much history between them. Don't know how things escalated. To my knowledge he tried to steal her purse in a shopping mall but was caught. She had some of her men "work him over". To say they were worked over in turn would be an understatement. She couldn't find him and was frustrated to the point where I was hired. Marquez must be desperate because she hated me. Sometime ago one of my clone brothers assassinated her daughter and framed me. I'd rather have an enemy then a client who knows the truth.

Been in the business too long to take threats personally. Eliminating Marquez wouldn't be a issue should the need arise. She is of course unaware of my presence or the listening devices placed throughout her mansion. Otherwise I won't have the task to kill myself after the assignment is completed. Unfortunately, Diana's search for this Chester Snowden has met limited success. We only know about the three corpses working for Marquez, no matches on blood. Then an incident that occurred at the Snowden's household, which was burned to the ground. The bodies of the family were found except for .

He's not on the radar and based on the type of destruction he left in his wake, I didn't think he was another crime lord or hitman. One million dead, two alive. Extra money's nice, but I'm not greedy. Dead is acceptable. With no other leads to follow, Diana and I decided to keep an eye on Marquez. After seeing what had happen to her men, it seems like a good chance he'll be causing more problems for her in the near future. She's been planning a party for a close friend for the past week. It's usually around this time a security team is more relaxed, making it an ideal opportunity for a surprise entrance. That's what I would do. Infiltrating her mansion and using a disguise as a guard was easy enough.

Aside from planning my own murder, I was part of the group helping put the party together. This gave me the maneuverability to inspect everything coming in. Making sure no explosives, weapons, poisons or traps were hidden anywhere. The loud speakers had amplifiers built in recently but that's the only thing I uncovered so far. Her mansion is located on a hill with a beautiful view overlooking the ocean in a isolated location, meaning there's two ways in and out.

The guests don't arrive until an hour later and it's not long before the strippers perform and take center stage. Now it's all flashing lights, drinks, laughs and giving away money. I believe the term is called "Making it rain on them." Strippers or prostitutes are valuable distractions for times like these. Make efficient assassins as well. Sometimes they're overconfident when using sex as a weapon. Four have attempted the approach on me. I was patrolling the area for about five hours before I grew tired of all the noise and retreated to my sniper's perch that was setup a hundred and seven feet away. From here I can still watch the place and listen in with my earpiece.

Stakeouts are the part of the job I truly loathe. Spending days on end trying to stay alert always drains me, and I've been here a week already. The party's going on for hours but still no sigh of the target. My phone starts to ring and I'm hoping Diana has good news to speed things up.

"How are you holding up 47?"

"The sooner I'm done the better. Anything new?"

"Negative. Just making sure you don't fall asleep at work, as you sometimes do."

She enjoys being a smartass sometimes. Trying to push my buttons.

"I don't suppose you have anything productive to add."

"Didn't want the target to show up while you're daydreaming about it. Good enough?"

"Assuming he comes at all. What's the status on this Serge Kayaru?"

"He and I have a bit of history. It's complicated. I intend to uncover his reasons for the Diamondback bank assignment in person. Aside from that he's had a successful career disrupting sexual slavery rings."

"Too risky a business."

"What is?"

"Kidnapping random people. The traps are set up fairly well but they rarely do background checks on the intended target. Could be a undercover agent, or the love ones of someone powerful."

"I see. Considering a new career path?"

"First-hand experience. What else can you tell me?"

"He owns a number of orphanages which has found a lot of children homes. Serge often operates in Uganda and employs an all-female security force."

"Hmm, sounds like infiltration's not an option. Has to be done from a distance."

"47 you agreed to allow me to handle this."

"Just analyzing likely scenarios. When?"

"I fly out in a week."

"Be cautious."

"Aren't I always?"

"I'll talk to you later."

10:00 am. The party ended an hour ago. All the guests were asleep as was Marquez. For a 70 year old, she party's quite hard. I position myself near the front doors along with another guard named Tommy. He's walking back and forth outside. I try to stay clear of windows as much as possible in case of a sniper attack. We notice a truck approaching, looks like a mailman. This might be the guy I'm waiting for. Due to the layout of the road, he parks the truck in a way that blocks a sniper's view of the front. Still I stay low and step out with my weapon drawn.

"Hands. Show me your hands!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Tommy asked.

"Get him out the truck and check the back."

"It's just the postman."

"I said pull him out and check the back, do it now."

He frowns at me for a few seconds before complying. The driver is terrified. When he's out I turn him around and pat him down while Tommy inspects the pull up door. He's in clear view of a shooter which is why I sent him. His ID says Lawrence Davidson. The pockets reveal a 16oz bag of marijuana, some gum and a switchblade.

"Holy shit; with all this paper I think he's gonna mass murder us with the written word." Tommy joked.

Unsatisfied that he wasn't Chester, I holster my gun.

"Sorry, false alarm. Carry on."

I give him two hundred dollars; he drops off the paper and drives off. Probably won't be returning anytime soon.

"You worried the fucking postman was about to go postal?"

"I'm a little stoned off a line I sniffed."

"No wonder. You should take a break."

"Maybe you're right. What's it say in the paper?"

"Weirdest shit man. Talks about these high school kids trying to find new ways to get high by strangling themselves, like some screwed up game. Some of them even say they can actually cum from doing that shit. Can you believe it? All they need is a little bit of love and drugs from their parents."

I've heard about this before. No idea if it's true but it makes me think of the many people I strangled to death. In their last moments, did some of them experience some sort of ecstasy? Or sexual climax? The horrified expression on the faces suggest otherwise. Mankind is growing increasingly dysfunctional.

Two more days pass by before I ran out of patience. I followed Marquez on all her errands and business deals then back to the mansion, still nothing to show for it. I tell Diana I'm finished with the stakeout. We'll have to track him down by other means. If nothing turns up in a month, I'll cancel the contract and refund half the money. While it is possible to stiff her on the assignment, that's not how I do business, even if she felt otherwise. Although she wants me dead, I'm fine accepting a job because I know what to expect. Marquez isn't the only disgruntled client. Now I drive toward the airport wearing my suit, taking a private jet to fly the W2000 and Silverballers of course. Suddenly an explosion sounds in my earpiece. The noise is followed by another, then gunshots. Lots of shouting in between what sounded like a war.

"The fuck is going on!?"

"How the hell should I know!"

"We're under attack you fucking idiots! Son of a bitch is shooting us with a goddamn bazooka!"

(Gunshot) "Ahhh!"

"No profanity in this house ever! Gather the rest of the boys and deal with the problem."

"Yes ma'am!"

How convenient this happens now. I turn the car around and head back to Marquez. Not because I'm concerned for her well-being, but I always see my contracts through and maintain my reputation. Take about eight minutes to return, meanwhile the siege raged on.

"Rita! A pleasure to meet you again." Never heard this voice before. Has to be the target.

"Who in god's name do you think you are coming here and destroying my home!"

"Been looking forward to this. I'm sure you couldn't wait to see me too."

"Your right. Take his legs out from under him."

More screaming and shooting. From the sound of things the home team was losing.

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

"Strange, I thought you didn't approve of swearing."

"Fuck you, you little shit!"

"I would take you back to my place for a candle light dinner, but the setting here will do fine."

"What the hell are you doing?! Get away from me you sick fuck...AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

I'm in sight of the mansion...or what's left of it. Big chucks of it were gone. Looks as if the place took repeated blows from a RPG, allowing anyone to see straight through it. No fire but a lot of smoke. Other than Marquez's cars, I didn't see extra vehicles in the area. He parked miles back and walked the rest of the way or come by boat. I'd love to set up at my sniper's perch, but if he did come by boat then all the smoke blocked my view. A 50/50 gamble I didn't want to take. My Sliverballers were ready as I entered.

Given the circumstance I wish I had brought heavier artillery. Then again there's little information about this man, other than just learning he doesn't seem to care about direct confrontation. Bodies everywhere. Still I have to take it slow and cautious. Some may be alive and express hostility. Marquez is screaming bloody murder upstairs. I go to her bedroom and...What I see actually makes me pause in disgust, and I thought I've seen everything in my lifetime.

She was tied to the bedrails with the sheets, halfway naked. The target who had on a light yellow dress shirt and bow tie that was blood all over it, with brown slacks and Snakeskin boots, had his head between her legs, eating her clitoris. Literally. She wasn't screaming anymore, only gasping for air while her eyes were rolled in the back of her head. He sensed my presence and snapped his head in my direction, tarring out a piece of her insides with his teeth.

"You're free?"

Don't know what he's referring to. I start shooting. He gets hit in the chest and torso which knocks him over the side of the bed. I begin moving forward then hearing the cocking of a shotgun, dart back out behind the wall to the left, just escaping the blast. He's wearing Kevlar under his shirt so it has to be a headshot. Have to make this quick. The wall was already damaged from bullet holes and explosions earlier and only becoming worse with more gunfire, and he seems to know it. The gun soon goes dry and I return fire but it was a ruse. Soon as I start a Kriss Super V CRB/SO System begins going off.

Couldn't see it but I know most weapons by the sound they make. I was forced to move alongside the wall staying low, shrapnel scratching the top of my head. I stop at the next door. The shots seem to follow me. Marquez didn't have a door from her bedroom leading into the bathroom, but perhaps the wall separating them was recently destroyed. He's no longer shooting, that doesn't mean he's out of ammo however. Instead of discharging from the door, I use one of the bullet holes hoping to catch him by surprise. Right in the middle of it the loud speakers suddenly comes on, blaring so strong it hurts.

*We're no strangers to love. You know the rules and so do I. A full commitment's what I'm thinking of.*

It distracts me for a few seconds and he rushes me, through the wall with enough force to break the rail and crashing on top a glass table.

*Gotta make you understand. Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you cry. Never gonna say goodbye.*

Can barely hear myself think. Don't believe in luck, but that seems to be the only explanation as why there's no glass implied in me or my throat cut. I'm laying facedown trying to shake off the pain. Because of the music it took a moment to realize he's on top of me.

"640509-040147? Getting more and more curious."

He puts me in a sleeper hold and rolls us over. It won't be long before I pass out. I use my right arm to pull against his around my neck, and the left to feel around the ground. there's only broken glass so I make the most of it by stabbing his forearm then tarring upward toward his hand. This makes him release his grip to force my arm away. I lift my head up and slam it backwards on his face twice, then jump flip to my feet and drop forcefully backwards on top of him. I roll off and grab another shard and go for his throat, but he catches my arm.

I use all my weight pressing on him with progress. He reacts by yanking out the glass in his forearm and slices at my face. I narrowly avoided being blinded but that allowed him enough room to kick me away. If this keeps up much longer, I sure to go deaf.

*Your heart's been arching. But you're too shy to say it. Inside we both know what's been going on. We know the game and we're gonna play it. And if you ask me how I'm feeling. Don't tell me you're too blind to see. Never gonna give you up.*

Climbing to my feet I reach for the first gun in sight, a game of who's the fastest draw or so I thought. Rather than go for a weapon he rushed towards me with impressive speed. As I aimed he was at my side, grabbing my wrist then biting on my fingers! I'm trying to shake him off and punch him. He catches my fist and keeps biting down. I kick him off but lose my grip on the pistol in the process. I launch a roundhouse to his face making him do a 360, then a spin kick to the chest. He intercepts it, moves behinds me. I throw a back elbow but he ducks it, warping his arms around my waist, then lifts me for a backwards body slam.

I don't take the time to appreciate the newfound pain as I scramble up, but I'm met by a dropkick to my chest, sending me flipping behind a couch. Not so quick to ignore that blow.

*Give you up, give you up, Never gonna give, Never gonna give, give you up, Never gonna give, Never gonna give, give you up.*

Needed a weapon to end this and shut off that damn music that's still blaring. Chester must have on earplugs. He jumps on top of me and started throwing a series of punches to my head, trying to knock me unconscious. I shove a hand into his left armpit, pressing in with my thumb to limit movement. When he slaps my hand away I strike his neck and stun him. Then slide my hands under his thighs and lift him over off me. Mitchell's Escalade - a 12 gauge shotgun - was the closest thing to me by way of the now late Tommy.

Wasted no time picking it up and firing. Chester was moving through the kitchen trying to get behind the counter for cover but I shot him in the back before he makes it that far. It was enough power to send him through the windshield overlooking the ocean. Next I shot out the speakers. Shotgun's empty so I go pick up my ballers. I look out to verify the kill only to see nothing on the rocks below leading to the beach. No longer matters. Marquez is dying if not dead. It's possible he may have eaten out her appendix. This means the contract is now void, and I keep the money. I'll head to one of my safe houses and treat my wounds. Can't tell if Diana's is trying to call, my ears are still ringing, and bleeding. Have to type to her later. Might consider getting my hand checked for rabies.

* * *

I awaken and watch my captor over the kitchen sink splashing water on his face, then brings out a needle and thread and begins sawing his arm. The black eye and bruises have been renewed as if he'd recently been in a fist fight. Once finished he brings a cup of water and offers it.

"It is said you should never take what your enemy gives freely. Wise words, but in this case what's the alternative?"

I haven't found a means of escape yet. He's kept me sedated the majority of my time here, and it's been long enough to know I needed some kind of substance. i decided to take a sip. If it was something hazardous he could easily force me to drink it, but I don't think he wants to kill me. At least not yet. The microwave goes ding and he walks over and gets a plate of food and offers to feed me. We eat from the same dish. I found it unsettling he doesn't care about sharing the same fork.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I honestly haven't taken the time to choose an identity. I guess you can call me Chester for now. That's who I've been this past month anyway."

"What is it you want exactly, Chester?"

He brings a chair in front of me and leans behind it.

"Just meet your identical twin at Rita's earlier. An Mr.640509-040147. Nearly got the drop on me. If I haven't rigged the queen's loud speakers he probably would have."

"I take it you seek retribution."

"Not at all. Never met the man before in my life. It's not personal...well it is but not in the sense your thinking. I'll just say you, him and Rita have my interest for the same reason."

"For your amusement."

"...Sort of."

"I don't know where to find him."

"Then perhaps you can share everything you do know. Past and present. I'll brainstorm from there."

"And if I refuse? You'll starve me to death?"

"We'll still share meals. Already ate half your kidney together and that didn't taste half bad, did it?"

"What..."

"Didn't notice it was missing with all the narcotics in your system. Hmm. Reminds me of a time I was strapped up as somebody's bitch for a week, forget their names. Only thing they fed me was semen. Nothing torturous about it, just plain gross."

Terror tactics. Or psychological warfare, which ever you wish to label it. I expected he'd do something sooner or later. I'll admit however, his approach has...caught me off guard. Anger would have been my reaction but the drugs kept me in a relaxed state.

"Sometimes I'd say something methodical about it but that'll be an insult in your case. I don't want to feed you some line about letting you, so let's get to the point: Tell me what I want to know and if I get him, I'll tell you why your here and reward you with a quicker death. What do you say?"

Burn in hell. That's what I was ready to say but didn't. Doubtful he let me loose to aid him. Based on what I know of Chester I had a sense of where he wanted to go with all this, and if that's true there's a chance to turn the tables. And perhaps eliminate 47 in the process.


	7. Chapter 7

(7) Walking on Sunshine

"We have everything?"

She nodded while still looking at a movie on her PSP.

"Sure? We have Arophor, Arocide, and Austin Air Allergy Machine?"

Again she nodded.

"Glass glow yes? Made sure it's phosphate free-"

She stops me with a sharp look. We've done this too many times to make rookie misteaks,I know. I should back off. Already agitated my crew by putting up most of our money for this deal.

"Sorry, I know you'll do fine."

"Fuck that. Make sure we survive Delio." Andre said.

"Remember story...eh, donkey and the wolf in forest? We have more use so we live longer."

"Tell that to the wolf when we meet him."

"We're not untouchable but because what we do for living, usually we're left alone. When wars break out, they hunt down your friends, family and the fucking dog. But rarely us. When all the mayhem's finished, they need someone to clean up afterwards. Kill cleaners, nobody fixes mess. And if word gets around about that, nobody's gonna want to clean for either side."

"Right now there is no 'they' Delio. Just him, and he's been doing fine for years without help. So you can stop blowing smoke up ass with that 'it's already in the bag' shit."

A waste of breath trying to argue so I stop and turn to Maverick. She's watching some Kung Fu flick. It was a scene where a women stands on a ledge in some kind of stance while staring at a cobra that was damn near her face. Never understood it but Mav's in to that kind of thing. She can hold her own in a fight yet still she hopes to...eh, how do you say? Achieve the same level of...enlightenment.

"Mav what's the point in learning that? It doesn't pay the bills or make you bulletproof."

She looked at me, smiled and responded in Cantonese. I knew she was insulting me. Funny how it can sound pleasant in almost any language but English, especially coming from her. She could call my mother a whore and make it sound like poetry.

"Fuck you and the horse you ride on." I replied.

I park van when we reach destination. A 20 floor high abandoned condo in the middle of the night with no signs of life in sight. We were instructed to head to the rooftop. Grab our gear and go through the lobby doors. Nothing but debris everywhere, smells as if we're inside a trash compactor. We took the stairs, not wanting to take chance on elevator. They didn't look much better than the hallway. Mav said something nasty after stepping on a rat.

"This is some repugnant shit Delio."

"You've been through worse."

"Not for a goddamn meeting."

"Maybe your fault for making pass at Burnwood."

"If I got her number, we'd get the royalty treatment."

"More like the body bag treatment."

"She's probably buffin 47's helmet. Only reason I see why she shot me down, cause I got the dick and the moves to back it. I'll try and find out one day."

"How much you wanna bet?"

"That's a habit you need to lose Delio."

"I told you it's nothing to worry about."

"How much are you in?"

He stops me walking and looks me in the eye. I don't have the heart to answear and look away.

"This deal goes through; you retire from that second job. Your writing checks our asses can't afford."

"Can I get a check before the bank closes?"

Two bums armed with a gun and a knife decided to accompany us, one from above, the other from below. They looked and smelled like longtime residents.

"Empty your pockets and give up them cases you got."

"This has gotta be a joke." Andre said.

"Let's go! Today!"

We do as told, handing over wallets and gear. As soon as they turn their backs, it's ours again. They don't know we're packing too.

"What do we have here? The gunmen said eyeing Maverick.

"Tall, pretty and yellow. Just my type. You guys don't mind if we barrow her right."

I heard the origins of why Americans wear their pants sagging originated in prison as a sigh of how available a man is. By the height of your pants, you were one of the most popular whores.

I just know whatever it was Mav just said wasn't about the colors of the rainbow.

"Damn that sounded sexy."

He already had a hand on her, stroking her butt and breast.

"Mav-"

That's all I got out before it was too late. In a spilt second she forced the gun to his face and fired while he was still rubbing her. Me and Andre shot knifeman while he was distracted. I was hoping to avoid this. No question they had to die, but not so messy.

"Goddamnit Mav! Could you just played along this time! Now we got blood all over us!"

She argued back of course, and I got gist of it.

"Ok Mav." Andre said. "He didn't have the right to touch you, nobody's disputing that. And he never would've gotten away with it. But please try to be...less direct letting people know? At least while on business trips. Please."

She replied in a softer tone. There was still fire in her eyes though.

"Sorry I yelled Mav-"

She motion's for me to stop and spins around her index finger, meaning shut the hell up and let's keep going. We have on our clean up uniforms and getting blood on them is regular. Took about ten minutes cleaning mess, plus tossing bodies in van to bury later. Everybody's tried when we finally reached roof. Only thing up here is us and the birds. Ahhhh! Felt something sting my neck. I'm...falling...

My eyes open and only see black. Something's covering my head, a gag in my mouth. Feels like I'm in a chair that hands are cuffed to. It's leaning backward on two legs I think. On edge of roof! There is...something keeping me from falling. I call out to Andre and Maverick, and thankful they muffle back, still alive.

"Be quiet." A voice spoke. "The three of you disposed of a Mr. Zhao for a Mr. Glazier. I want the location."

Glazier? We did a job for him some years back. Last I heard he got killed by a couple of mercs he hired. I don't know the details. But he's dead, so why ask for a body?

"I'll start with you." The voice continued.

It was Maverick because I heard her speak. Guess he took off gag. She was trying to direct him to talk with Andre and me because she didn't speak English. Then the voice began speaking in Cantonese. That took all of us by surprise. Whatever he was saying came out even and cold, no personality or attitude. Mav was doing well but I can tell she's nervous. Conversation lasted less than five minutes then the gag was back on. Holy shit! It sounded as if he pushes her over edge!

"No! Mav!" I screamed.

My chest pounded so loud I was almost deaf to the world. Son of a bitch!

"Your turn". He said to Andre.

"We're just here for a job! The hell you'd kill her for!?"

"Your here to give me Intel, nothing more. Answer my question, or I'll ask Mr. Gavanski. Slowly."

I could hear my friend weeping. This is all my fault. Should've listened to Burnwood. Instead put chips on bad bet and my closest friends are paying price. He yelled through gag as he went over. Then the bag was removed from my head and he pulled me from edge and showed a switchblade.

"The location please."

The blade was on my face, but Mav and Andre are all I'm thinking about, how he took them from me.

"Go fuck yourself!"

I spit in his face and wait for it...but nothing. He doesn't even look pissed. He puts away knife and pulls out keys, then drops them in my hands. I couldn't help but stare at him.

"You may wish to hurry and pull up your crew."

The fuck? I look down from edge...Andre and Mav are hanging from a rope, alive! This was fucking nightmare.

"So umm...we are hired yes?" I asked while pulling Mav up. Despite everything I still wanted to know. Should be after all this.

"No. But you get to leave alive." He replied before making his exit.

"Wait, what? I don't fucking believe this! We went through this for nothing? Hey, come back!"

Everybody's quiet back in the van, reflecting on my screw up. The bodies we had in the back didn't help anything.

"Guys I never intended for any of this-

"Said that already Delio. I'm not worried about it anymore. It's split milk. Just gonna stay on the grind and move forward. Walking on fucking sunshine right now."

"You have right to be pissed. Put our money so he can fuck us over! I find a way..."

Mav turned away from window and looked at me, but not with anger. Her expression was soft.

Seeing Agent 47 for the first time-I don't think he took any pleasure in this, and I've seen the eyes of men who have. What happened tonight was a test. It was our interview. Did we fail? Or...

"Thanks Mav, I appreciate that."

She was trying to say something nice I think, but I still feel like shit. I let my crew down. Needed to get money back. Only one place I can think of.

* * *

It's my preference not to waste time with speculation which is way it's best learning from the source, However I wasn't looking forward to this meeting. Never the less, 47 and I wanted to reach the bottom of the Diamondback back contract. I haven't seen Serge since before I became a controller, on a mission as a spy. The mission in question is classified. Needless to say, getting close to Serge became a crucial factor. Got closer than anticipated however. Now here I am in Uganda being driven toward a football stadium. You would call it soccer if you're American. Because it's his backyard, I've brought a 20 man bodyguard team along as well.

Once we arrived, four of his guards appeared and directed us: Women dressed in military uniforms armed with AK-47s. A rough looking bunch. Serge was by the double doors leading into the stands. A black man with a bald head, a clean cut jawline beard, wearing white colored Egyptian Cotton. He looks...different. One thing remains is his smile. Whenever something unexpected happens, good or bad, he always welcomed it with a smile. Part of his charm I use to like.

"Diana! Too many years have passed. You're as remarkable as ever."

"Thank you. Ready to begin?"

"Been waiting a long time for this. But I ask that your men wait in your vehicles."

"They'll stay here while we sit outside."

"Still the same Diana. I'll take what I can get."

There's a junior league playing on the field, but no one else is here to watch.

"This is my team training to be the best that Afrika has ever seen. And soon the world. What do you think of them?"

"Never possessed an interest in Football."

"Still focused on business I see."

"Your actions have endangered my partner."

"Ah, you mean the enigmatic Mr.47. I heard stories about him. I thought he'd be here with you."

"His presence means the time for conversation has long past."

"I do apologize for the mishap. Didn't know he'd be there that day. A unfortunate alignment of the stars."

"You hired us through a client, then tried to execute a heist?"

"They were never meant to achieve success. Despite how things may appear my dear, I hold no ill will toward you or Mr.47. I did this because...well it is said that if you love something you should let it go. If it comes back to you, then it is yours. And here you are."

"Limited amount of clarification in that statement Serge."

"Come on Diana. I knew you wouldn't take my calls. Had to start speaking your language: Business. This was all set up for you to follow the bread crumbs back to me."

"Your telling me you put lives at risk - my partner's as well as a client's - for this meeting."

He turns to me and kneels on his left knee and presents a ring from his pocket.

"Love makes a man do strange things. Marry me."

"Serge, I don't love you or wish to marry."

"I can't forget about the time you did Diana."

"That's buried in the past. Everything has change."

"Yes. I've learned what happen with your Majesty. You have my deepest condolence."

I turn away from him and watch the game. He walks up behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Some good has come of it. You're in charge now, at the height of your career. As am I Diana. We both came a long way. I'm sure you're aware of my more recent exploits, and I want you in my future."

"I have my own future. Ask one of your bodyguards to be your queen."

I was finished conversing and ready to depart. I move away and begin walking upstairs.

"Diana. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I needed to see you again."

"You saved my life once Serge, and in return I'm willing to forget this ever happened. I strongly advise you not to repeat this mistake. Goodbye Serge."

"Ok Diana. I guess I can only hope when you tour the land and see all the changes I made; maybe you'll change your mind."

"Is everything all right ?" One of my guards asked.

"It is. Thanks for asking."

We were riding in the third limo on the way to the airport. I'm wondering about Serge, must have shown on my face. He claims all this was intended for me, but why now? He is right however in that I wouldn't accept his call, but has never gone to such a extent. The Majesty would view the approach as hostile...and she's gone. So why-(Car horn honk)

"Step aside kids, don't want to have to run you over." My driver said.

Looking out my window I see children running alongside the limos, laughing while shooting water guns at us. Many races: Black, White, Spanish, Asian and even Germen. They look between the ages of 8 to 15.

"Easy now, their only babies enjoying the simple pleasures in life." I told the driver.

"Yes Ma'am.

They kept moving with us as we drove past blocks. Seems to be more of them, some of which climbed to the roofs of the limos.

"They're blocking the way Ma'am."

"All right, you can sho them away."

The driver stepped out along with a few of the men. Most of the children began leaving.(Boom!...Boom!...Gunshots!)

The limos ahead suddenly exploded! Followed by gunfire! Before I could even assess the situation, someone tossed a grenade inside from the driver's door.

"Time to bail out!" I shouted.

Most of us escaped before it went off. I was still close enough for the force to throw me to the ground. One of the men got on my back, shielding me. Everyone knows the drill. We got on our feet ASAP, weapons ready. Unfortunately our assailants were already ahead of us and the fight didn't last long. I saw who they were...and stopped. The children were attacking! Armed with submachine guns and pistols. They targeted all but me.

"Help...Burnwood..."

Two of my remaining guards are badly wounded. A little girl walked toward them.

"No! Stop!" I shouted rising my firearm.

She didn't even hesitate. Put her gun to their heads and fired. I wanted to help them. But I...I couldn't bring myself to harm a child. She came before me. Looking into her eyes made me feel as if our roles were in reverse. She was the grown up...I was the little girl. A phone started ringing and it was hers. She handed it to me then turns to leave and the rest followed.

"My sweet Diana."

"Serge!"

"I hope the kids are treating you well. To be honest, they're really Basil's. You remember my brother Basil don't you?"

"I will bloody kill you."

"You won't even have to wait nine months. I can give you as many as your heart desires."

"Your death is what my heart desires."

"Doesn't seem to matter how many foster parents I find for these kids - and I've found many in surprising parts of the world - they all want you to come back to me. To take your place as my queen and their mother. Take some time and please reconsider."

I place a bullet into the receiver. After walking a few blocks I finally hail a cab to the airport. Since then I haven't been to work in I don't know how long. Didn't want to speak to anyone. I stayed home and watched my televisions. There are four of them mounted on my living room wall, one in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. Each with a network for a different country. If one news station became a bore, there's always another choice. I was sitting on my couch when one of my lamps suddenly comes on. My Witness Elite was pointed at the intruder.

"Good reflexes." He said.

* * *

"47? How did you-"

"You haven't answered your phone or emails." I said.

"I appreciate the concern 47, but as you can see I'm fine and would like to be left alone."

"I heard about what happened."

"Then I hope you can understand why I want you to leave."

"I'm waiting on you to provide Intel on kayaru."

Hearing this made her stand up.

"It's my problem 47. You don't need to-"

"We're business partners, are we not? Kayaru is a threat to business and needs to be eliminated."

She walks to a window and watches as it rains outside.

"I can't."

"Can't?"

"He uses children 47. Some of my closest men were wiped out by a group of little children. I couldn't shoot them...and they paid the price."

"All the more reason he should be dault with."

"You misunderstand." she said facing me. "He controls some high profile foster homes. There's no telling how many out there he's brainwashed."

"Sleeper cells?"

She nodded. "All he has to do is give the word and they'll activate, do god knows what."

"And what does Kayaru want exactly?"

"Me."

"Hard to believe all this was for your courtship."

"So did I. But it's true."

"No.I think he'll use them regardless. They're already in position."

"That may be. But if I become his wife I'll have some influence in the matter."

"Then the question is will you do so?"

"Of course not."

"Then there's only one course of action to take."

"And what about those kids? They can transform into terrorist with a flip of a switch!"

"It's not our concern Diana."

"It's my concern!"

She stormed off into the kitchen to get a bottle of wine and poured a glass. I followed but for a moment I was at a loss for words, trying to think of something constructive to say. I've spent most of my life sailing lies to people; telling them what they want to hear to achieve my objective. When it comes to saying something that needed to be heard, I was out of my element. It's something that requires a certain level of humanity that's beyond my experience. In the end, I can only speak from my point of view.

"We're not the heroes Diana. Most of the clients are no better than the targets. All we've done is removed evil to room for more of the same. It's the sole reason I was created. I'm a by-product of mankind's desire to destroy himself, and we profit because it."

"It's difficult to argue with those facts. Perhaps you are right. But this is personal for me. I simply can't ignore it because of principles. Serge will be handled in the manner I see fit."

"Is there a plan?"

"I'd like you to sit tight for now 47, and give me time."

"How much time is Kayaru giving you?"

"Please 47, don't do anything or I must insist our partnership come to a close. Please."

I don't like this. Kayaru had gotten under her skin, never the less I had to respect her wishes. Perhaps I can - Something catches my attention on her TV. It's...the target. Chester. Diana follows my gaze. He's on a news station. Two anchormen are sitting beside him restrained and gaged with terrified expressions.

"Turn up the volume."

"-Cloning project. He is accountable for assassinations which I won't get into at this time. If you want more info on Dr.O, his projects, and the mysterious hitman, I'll be broadcasting somewhere in the UK three days from now. And to be sure I have your undivided attention..."

He pulls out a Wilson Combat shotgun and blows both anchormen brains out, then turns and shoots the camera.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Guiding Hand

True to his word, the man going by the probably deceased Chester Snowden was indeed broadcasting live from a newstation in the UK, a four story building that is now surrounded by law enforcement. I had taken a disguise of a police sniper positioned in the building oppsite. All lights are off with the exception of the top floor and the blinds are closed. On televison he's giving out small details on Ortymer and myself. Don't know how he came across this information but reguradless, it's past time I put an end to him. Only a matter of time before the police cut the power and make their move, which I'm certain he's already anticipated. Calling this a trap is a over simplification, which is the reason I'm keeping my distance. This is my preferred method of execution because it's the safest approach. But a luxury that's not often a option. I'm still unclear on what this is about. Seems like such a extreme length to kill a single individual, and for what purpose?

Possibly for a contract but I doubt it. Rivals generally wouldn't allow themselfs to be open to this level of exposure. They always try to make the attempt someplace quiet or isolated. Slient wars. Personal motive such as revenge makes little sense. My target is cornered and in the light yet it bothers me because I don't understand why. It's simuler to Chess; a game that mirrors life itself. On assighments my sucess weighs on the target's inablity to forsee the magnitude of my moves while I know everyone they make. Sometimes there are enemies who can, and in those cases victory is determined not by the best action but reaction. Reguradless how skillful one may be, any strategy can be countered. Today I feel as if I'm on the opposite end of the board; nearly blind to my opponent's maneuvers.

There's another Chess game taking place between Diana and Kayaru for different stakes. I've known she's a bit sympathetic but seeing that side of her was still surprising. While I disagree on handling Kayaru, Diana's resolve for the situation makes me think of Father Vittorio. It was her moment of...pureness that remainds me of him. Never the less I couldn't visualize any pleasant outcomes. Despite Diana's current state she insisted on participating in the assighment. A needed distraction I suppose.

"Police are having trouble getting surveillance on the forth floor. Appears he has some knowledge of their tactics, which may suggest a previous occupation." She spoke in my earpiece.

"Your in position?

"Nearly. Satellite map is operational. When they move in, I'll be prepared to coordinate."

Don't know what he has in store but I'm aware he seems not to care about the consequences of full scale slaughter or making a mess. The best that could be done is give police a...guiding hand so to speak. Diana has connections with various higher-ups, in this case the police captain. Wasn't difficult for her to persuade him to let her 'assist' in neutralizing the threat. Only potential problem would be the captives. If push came to shove, SWAT would more likely be incline to save them then take out the target. But that can't be helped.

"What's your evaluation of the cleaners? She asked.

"Better then expected. Not exceptional but satisfactory."

"So then, are they on the payroll?"

"Haven't decided yet. But we have more pressing matters to attend."

"Indeed. I'm pulling up now. Once this is finished, we'll...focus more on the other problem."

"Reguradless how we approach this, it'll only lead you to ruin. There's too many in unknown locations, already programmed."

A full 8 seocnds pass before she replies.

"Your opinion is noted. It's time for me to play my part."

A BMW pulled up and out walked this professional high class looking chick who walked towards my squad and me. Must be the guest of honor our captain told us to expect. Also told us to be nice and play ball, but I don't take kindly to people who come out of nowhere suddenly barging in on our case. That's the kind of crap those stuck up fucks at the FBI or CIA like to pull sometimes.

"Hello I'm Crystal Chinelli. You must be Sergeant Dennis Halleron, or am I misteaken?"

"Yeah that's me. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I'm here to provide assitance."

"Is that a fact? So how you gonna do that? By telling us how to do our job? Your the one giving orders right? So which acronym do you work for?"

"I'm not here to answer twenty one questions."

"You think we're just gonna roll over whenever you suits want to pay us a visit without a clue as to why?"

"Your captain requested me here."

"Bullshit, what would he have anything to do with you?"

"It's his choice to share that information. I'm returning a favor, and he clearly values your lives. Otherwise I wouldn't be present."

"What exactly are you gonna do? Go in and save the day Robocop style?"

"See this laptop? I can turn it on and tell you how many are within the building and track their movements."

"Sounds like some serious tech for us lowly policemen."

"Listen, you can have full credit for whichever outcome occurs here. Rather you accept my help or not makes little difference to me, but could make all the difference you, your squad and the hostages. As I stated, I'm here as a favor to your captain, and this is a one time only offer. The choice is yours."

For some mystery women who for all I know just dropped out of the sky, she drives damn hard bargin. But something about her...I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but I still gotta have a few words with my captain later. Thanks to her we now know there's only one perp and sixteen hostages. Don't know who this guy is or why he's telling bedtime stories about some hitman is beyond me. Looking for fame or trying to get his own TV reality show maybe. Who knows? Been trying to call for the past few hours. For some reason we can't get a camera inside the top floor without the son of a bitch finding it. But since that problem's now solved, we're ready to breach. First we cut the power then position a team on the rooftop, ready to crash through the windows. And last the rest of my squad and me come in from the bottom and work our way up. The plan is to flank him from above and below. I think this is the same newstation where the reporters always make a appearence at our crime scenes, on everybody like a pack of leechs. This time they'll be in front of the cameras. Poetic Justice for you. Couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"You may wish to take it slow sergeant. The first and second floors are clear. On the third there are two lone hostages in the stairway your climbing up. They've been stationed there for some time now." Chinelli said through our headgear.

"Might be trying to sneak out. Too scared to move."

"It may not be that simple."

"Rather it is or not we gotta help'em. Bravo team move."

We headed stright for them, moving past the first two floors. Don't like Crystal Chinelli but I can tell it's not her first time so I believe she knows what she's doing. When we reach the hostages, sure enough we were in for a surprise. They weren't bound by cuffs or chains or ropes in anyway. They were just standing shaking like someone put the fear of God in them. Or the Devil. The worst part was the Sawed-off shotguns being pointed as us.

"Take it easy, we're the good guys. You won't be harmed, we only want to get you out safe."

"I-I'm sorry!"

"It's ok, nothing happened yet. So trust me and put down the guns."

"H-h-he said w-we only had t-to wound you."

"No you don't! Put'em down. You have my word that everything's will be-"

"Mom! Dad! It's alright! No please don't! Ok ok!"

Took me a moment to realize they were talking on ear phones and uncover a grim truth.

"Put the weapons down and we can help! Trust me!"

"We'll j-just aim for a arm!"

"No!"

At this range the shotguns will do more then wound. Thay take a bodypart clean off. No choice but to defend ourselevs so we shot first, killing them both.

"Oh god. What the hell just happened!? We just...we-"

"Hey! This is fucked up I know but we don't have to think on it. Still more people we need to save so keep your shit wired!"

"Yes sir."

"Alpha team - Be advise the son of a bitch is coercing hostages to shoot us. Hit the windows with Teargas."

"10-4"

The gas will disorient and soon make them pass out.

"Slow down sergeant. He may have something waiting for you." Chinelli said.

"Got something for him too."

We keep moving until we were just outside the newsroom. I order Alpha team to charge in as I lead and kick the door open. The gas made the spriklers cut on. The hostages were coughing and losing consciousness, but we didn't see any more weapons on them. As I scaned the room I couldn't help but noitce a strong smell of gas even with my mask on. How many cans did Alpha team use? Spotted the fuckhead in charge sitting behind the news desk, wearing...some kind of sliver...hazard suit it looked like, armed with a SMG with a sliencer attached.

"Drop the fuckin weapon! Put it down!"

As we all shouted at him, the sent of gas was becoming intoxicating. He lowered his gun and raised a hand and pointed to the spriklers, then our guns and shakes his head. Before I could even ask, the answer hit me like a fright train. Hit everybody the same way because they all stopped. It wasn't water but gasline that's raining on us. My team and the hostages are all soaked in it. i'm guessing that outfit he's wearing is fire resistant. My heart sank into my stomach upon understanding how royally fucked we are.

"Sargent what's your status? Sergeant are you there? Come in please. Sargent Halleron?"

The top floor was set ablaze, followed by screams and some gunfire. A number of people jumped out the windows trying to escape the flames. If they weren't dead, they had broken bones and third degree burns. firetrucks arived ten minutes later. Don't see how anyone, including the target could have survived. Still I sense that he did.

"Do you have a visual Diana?"

"No...I think he's still in the building. Have to wait until the fire dies down before I can pick up any lifesighs."

It took the firefighters nearly an hour. When they were finished more police entered followed by paramedices.

"One person still alive, most likely wearing a disguise which would allow him to walk out. Or be caried." Diana said.

"So that's the escape plan. Probably checked the bodies and knows I'm not among them. We can't allow him to get past us, otherwise he'll repeat the process at another newstation and leak more information."

They rolled him out in a stretcher and of course, they had to stand in the way of my shot. While he was moved into a ambulance, I quickly up rooted from my position and went for my stolen police vehicle, and was close behind when they pulled off. I still had the police helmat that I would put on and cover my face once we reach the hospital, and as the paramedices brought him out, put two bullets in his head, return to the car and flee. The ambulance began to swerve before we made it that far however, and turned in a new direction and sped up. It made a number of twists and turns driving in and out of the opposite lane, trying to lose me. I turned on the police siren to alert traffic and clear a path. We began approaching a police station, which I think is the same one where the now deceased SWAT team once resided. There'd be few if any officers inside now, making it easy for him to aquire a weapon with minimun resistance.

Instead of stoping he crashed the ambulance through the building, then stumbled out of the drivers side. His disguise was a SWAT uniform complete with a helmat. Ash all over his face. I hit the emergency break, got out and continued the pursuit. As expected there were few people inside, stunned by the sudden crash. He was crawling as fast as possible trying to climb to his feet. I was coming up behind him and fired a shot that was intended for his leg but instead went in his left buttocks, which made him roll over on his back. I wanted to get close enough and make sure the job gets done this time.

"Freeze!"

One cop recovered and had a 9mm on me. While I contemplated on how to dispose of him, the man on the ground pulled out a detonator and pushed the button. There was a series of sounds of miniature explosions over head, then all the ceiling tials came crushing down with one hitting me. It was lightweight so no damage was done. They did however have Flashbangs taped to them. looking back at the target I see he's put some distance between us and already pulled a pin of one and tossed it. That's all needed to set off the rest like a chain reaction. I jump behind a desk and cover my head. It'll protect me from one or two, but againest an entire room full...

"47 can you read me? Are you there? 47? 47?"

Forty minutes and still no reply. I tried following the target with my laptop but I was too far behind and he vanished, meaning no longer in the city. I'd have to reset the computer with his current location, which I didn't know. Yet. Need to backtrack starting with the police station, 47's last known location. One ambulance was literary in the station while others were parked outside. I walked past them to get in and ran into Captain Pactkau. He pulls me aside for a private conversation.

"Tell me what in god's name the fuck happened! More then half my officers were burned alive then some kind of attack happens in my precinct! The fuck Burnwood!"

"Keep in mind that this wouldn't be your precint if not for my service you requested. You also know that if we have a problem, I'd take the matter up with you personally, not your men. Do you understand what I"m telling you?"

He dropped his head and exhales.

"Loud and clear."

"Thank you. I don't know what happened as of yet, but I want full access to this department and the newstation please."

"Done."

"I'll find your men's killer captain. Believe me."

I leave him and head inside. After an hour I uncover among the wounded, 47's body is gone. The ceiling was all over the floor in pieces. Found traces of shrapnel everywhere, but the damage is too underwhelming to possibly be from grenades. Through process of elimination that only leaves Flashbangs, which gives me some hope 47 is still alive. This is the exact precint that responded to the hostage situation. The newstation wasn't random, it was chosen. He knew it fell under this precint's jurisdiction. Seems he...took over the newstation to clear out this building. Can that be right? If he set up here it's unlikely he came through unnoticed. I make my way to the reception desk and ask for a list of the most recent hires starting with janitors for the past month. I remember seeing him on televison from my home so I should be able to match photos and analyze IDs. But this is only half the story. On my way out to return to the scene of the crime, I hear a voice and turn to look.

"Mommy? Mommy is that you?"

The boy looked no older then ten. He was in the waiting area walking toward me.

"You should find your parents, I'm sure they're worried about their rather handsome looking son."

"You are one of my parents."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

A man rushed up behind the boy.

"I was talking to the cop and lost sight of Adam here."

"That's quiet all right." He seems to think of me as his mom."

"Sorry about that. He doesn't have a mom and I guess he just warmed up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"He's adopted."

There's a question I didn't want to ask.

"From...Kayaru?"

His eyes grew wide in surprise.

"H-how you know?"

"Excuse me, I have to go."

The boy called after me as I walked quickly out the front door, trying to get away from the sound of his voice.

"Mommy where you going? Come back mommy. MOMMY!"

"Basil my brother. Join me."

"Of course Serge. Still enjoy watching them play football I see."

"There's nothing like watching here: Live from the stands. But that is not why you are here. Speak your mind."

"we are prepared to move forward, but you...insist on waiting for this...Diana women. You tipped our hand to her brother. She could become an obstacle."

"Fear not Basil. If she wanted to kill me I'd be dead right now. She knows the children are the future, and we serve as their guidance. I want her by my side when we change the world."

"But why this one Serge? We have a fine selection as it is."

"Heh heh heh heh. My brother Basil. You've never been in love. To see her in your dreams every night. To still smell her fragrance after so many years. To watch the way she lights up a room. The taste of her tongue in your mouth...ahhh. I've missed it for so long. Too long. Now there is a chance to have it all back, and I will not hesitate. I am sorry but I must leave you now."

"Where are you rushing off to?"

"Before you came, I received word from Adam that she is in the UK. I'm planning a surprise for my love. I'd like you to inform Orson the time has come."

That dirty son of a bitch. I still couldn't believe my piece of shit ex Elden and his fag friends decided to rob a bank and shot my sister. I just wish that fuck was still alive so I can kill him. Orson's been crying about his daddy ever since. I'm trying get back home before the nanny leaves, but as I park I see the bitch already left. When I open the door the place is a mess; toys and shit everywhere I look. Just got back from a ten hour shift and I'll be goddamned if I'm cleaning up.

"Orson! Get your butt out here now and clean up!"

He walked out from the kitchen with his 'mean' face and something stuffed in his shrit.

"No, your not my mom!"

He ran upstairs and I chased after him. He stopped at the top but didn't go in his room, his back to me. I took off my belt and was ready beat his little ass, when he spins around and shoves a knife in my chest! I...I tried catching my breath but couldn't, and feel myself falling backwards down the stairs. I'm...so weak. So... sleepy. I didn't have the energy to...do anything. Orson walks down to me, puts a hand on my face and closes my eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Instead of using lines, I've changed it to XXXX to help inform readers when I change to a different character's prospective. Hope it helps make this a little more clear.

Chapter 9: That Old Familiar Feeling

I wanted to leave and return to one of the HQs; only so much can be done from my laptop. Unfortunately my pilot had a loved one in the news station, so I gave him time off to mourn. Found a replacement here in the UK but I'll have to wait another day until he's prepared. I retired to a high profile hotel called The Great Indoors. Upon approaching the elevator I come across a small entourage and one familiar face.

"Good evening Mr. Aquila."

"Oh! Uhh h-hello !"

"No need to be alarmed. I'm only passing through."

The elevator arrived and I motion for him to enter since he was here first.

"No no no that's fine. We'll take the stairs."

"Sir, we're on the fourteenth floor." One of his men informed.

"Good day for some exercise. Pack the bags when we get to the room."

"We just flew in yester-"

"You can stay here - along with your job - for all I care."

I stepped inside as they make a b-line towards the stairway. The display was slightly amusing but didn't make me feel any better. He's probably here eyeing his competition and stealing their hotel design ideas. My room was a bit extravagant: Too many wall hangings and paintings. Even included a Mini Bar. I set up the laptop there, pour a drink and review my findings. Uncovered the remains of what I believe is a fire resistant suit, similar to what stuntmen wear in films. Also found gas in the water sprinklers. That requires serious influence within the National Fire Protection Association. The trail ended with the corpse of a low level employee, found sitting on a chair in his apartment. All his knowledge covered one side of the kitchen and stove. Appears to be a suicide. Didn't find anything tying him to the mass murderer, but Captain Pactkau had the place checked for prints and I took some for myself. I sent this along with the evidence from the police station to one of my analyst teams.

Been working for three days and was feeling drowsy. Ignored it as long as possible; had to keep working and save 47 then figure out my next move...whatever it may be. I have no idea how to solve this problem. Despite my connections, my skills, all of my abilities I felt powerless. An old familiar feeling I hated.

I'm startled by a raping on the door. Bollocks, I fell asleep on the bloody laptop! No lasting damage that I can see but I'll examine it later. I unholster my Witness Elite because I'm not expecting visitors. Open my door part of the way only to see the wallpaper and the door across from mine, and then I spot a baby seat on my doorstep. Unwarping the blanket reveals an infant laying asleep. The hallways are deprived of any life. I stare at the infant for perhaps five minutes before slowly picking him up from the seat. There's a note on the bottom which I also collect and return inside my room, laying the child on the bed. I walk around as I read.

Diana

I have a confession. One of my sons has grown tired of his foster mother and ended her life.  
I feel he's done so because he wants his real mother. He's a wonderful boy by the name of Orson.  
I worry that the worst has been bestowed on to him, but then I remembered:  
There's the belief the soul lives on after the body's death, that it returns in a new form,  
And I know this to be true. I say this because I want you to know that no matter what happens to our children,  
they can never be destroyed for they are immortal.  
Their souls remain on earth, and with us forever.  
So I present to you the soul of Orson, now reborn. Untainted and pure,  
ready for your loving care. My gift to you.

Serge.

...The words don't exist to describe what I'm feeling right now. As if in a trance I pace back and forth while staring at the note, deaf to my surroundings. It wasn't until he spoke that I became aware of guest in my room. Must've left the door open.

"Beautiful isn't he?"

Serge and four of his lackeys. Fiends who should be ashamed being handed the privilege of being born female. Except they weren't; they had no gender. They couldn't even be considered whores as it's too high a compliment. I picked up the bottle from the Mini Bar, turned my back to them, took a drink and tried to calm down. Felt my veins turning colder and colder by the second. Vision started turning red.

"Adam said you were in the UK, and by the blessing of God I ran into Mr. Aquila at the airport, who told me you were here. I know you would probably would wish to dispose of him for giving you up so easily. Women are always more trustworthy then men anyway. Well, most men. But you can rest ashore he's been taken care of. You will have no worries for as long as I draw breath..."

His voice slowly faded off in the distance and I could no longer make out what he was preaching, not that I cared in the first place. What exactly did he expect would take place? Was there actually a mental projection of me running into his arms? Sending the baby was supposed to win me over? Or perhaps he believed I wouldn't do anything in the child's presence, such as back in Uganda. By that logic he is correct. But logic wasn't with me today. Something else filled the gap instead, ready to boil over. I'm losing the fight to remain calm and rational. I heard what I think are the echoes of his footsteps approaching behind me. He placed the baby seat I left outside my door on the table in front of me, and then put a hand on my shoulder.

In that moment I felt as if I stepped inside myself, watching everything thing from a theater in my mind, something I can best describe as an outer body experience. I broke the bottle in my possession against the table, spin around and slash Serge across his face. While he cups his hands on the wound, one of his guards grabs my wrist, trying to force the broken bottle from my hand. I used my free hand to pull out my gun and fire a shot into her midsection. As she slumped to the floor I discharged more rounds in another two. The last one reacted quick enough to aim a Rock River Arms PPs in my direction. In that moment Serge jumped between us, grabbing hold of our weapons.

"No! She must not be harmed!"

She surrendered her weapon under orders while I grabbed the handle of the baby seat and smashed it against Serge's head, knocking him to the ground, and then shot the remaining guard a number of times. Turn the gun on Serge only to find the clip empty. If I was thinking clearly I would simply have reloaded. Instead I operated on basic instinct and proceeded to hit him with the seat over and over. He was screaming for me to stop, and if not for the guard - the one I gutshot - who pulled me away, I probably would've continued until his skull was caved in. I push my body backwards, forcing her against a wall and kept doing it until I was released, the turned around and swung the now bloodstained baby seat across her cheek. On the ground, I kept bashing her head until I saw bone. Afterwards I'm exhausted. Serge had escaped in that time. I lay in the bed with the boy, covered in blood and feeling miserable about what just transpired. Should have been making my escape but I wasn't ready to go anywhere.

At last the police arrived. This is the only time in my life I can recall where I didn't mind being arrested. Wanted time to cool off and think, otherwise I might do something rash. I remain in holding for a day or two before released. The four bodies and the child found in my room makes it easy to claim self-defense. 'I was in fear for my baby's life'. That plus the recent killings at the police and news station barley made the whole thing a beep on anyone's radar. Paid some bribes to keep my name and face out of the paper.

My laptop was broken during the mist of violence, which is both good and bad. No wondering eyes can acquire unnecessary information but neither could I. Finally I make it back to an HQ at a disclosed location. First task is to find a suitable home for the baby. It doesn't take me long: A loving couple with three children. I'm waiting in their living room when they come home, my gun in hand. While they beg for their lives I walk out the front door, leaving the baby and a suitcase with one million dollars and cautionary instructions inside.

I wasn't particular fond of my violent outburst. Let my anger take control of the situation and acted out in public. I can cover myself but that's no excuse. It never should have happened. The Majesty would have fired me if she were alive. This has to be dealt with immediately. I place some of my best controllers I have to track 47 and pry he's alive. Now I'm going after Serge. Though displeased with my recent actions, the event wasn't entirely unproductive. Learned something about my adversary - However in his sick mind he doesn't view himself in that light, and that may be the key. This isn't a plan, it's a gamble with 50/50 chance of success, but I'm ready for this to end one way or the other. I intend to discover just how deep Serge's 'love' for me truly extends.

XXXXX

"Give us a moment nurse."

"If you want ."

"Basil, I explained on the phone that I'm alive and well."

"Alive and well? Your sitting in a hospital room Serge. Your face looks like it got hit by a train."

"I'll heal."

"She beat the living shit out of you. You're not as safe as you believe."

"Because I was in the wrong Basil. Over stepped my bounds on this and she had the right to be upset. I should have called first before visiting. How could I have been so rash to forget that?"

"Serge, do you hear what you are saying? You sound delusional. What will you say after she cuts your throat? She was on her fucking period!?"

"Diana has never acted this way before. That is how I know it is my error. One that will be rectified."

"Indeed it will. It's time to figure out how to deal with her."

"Your my brother Basil and I always love you. I know you speak out of worry for me, but I must warn you: Do not even consider taking action against her or we are no longer family."

"You're not merely infatuated, your obsessed! You would put this woman before me?"

"I put Diana beside you Basil. Listen - you always told me when life gives us limits, we simply give them back. That is how I feel about this woman. It is what I want."

"I don't think this is healthy for Serge. But...I want to see my little brother happy. Never will I say anything is beyond your reach, so I will stand aside. But not at the expense of everything we built. No more children. We don't have the numbers to just piss away."

"..."

"Serge?"

"Thank you Basil. I'm grateful for your support. If you please, I'd like some time alone."

(Cell phone rings)

"Hello."

"I'm ready to discuss the future in person."

"Diana, what a wonderful surprise! Didn't think you'd still have my number."

"Adam was more than happy to give me your information. He believes his 'mother' is coming home."

"And is she?"

"Not over the phone Serge. As I said we will discuss this in person."

"Where and when?"

XXXXX

*Never gonna give you up  
Never gonna let you down  
Never gonna run around and desert you  
Never gonna make you cry  
Never gonna say goodbye*

Slowly I wake up to the sound of a song. I feel my arms are stretched above me and I see I'm double handcuffed to a wooden beam hanging four feet from the floor. Strangely enough I'm wearing what looks but feels like a knockoff version of my suit instead of the SWAT uniform. The area is barely lit by a pair of flashlights. A moment of scanning reveals bullet holes, old bloodstains, police caution tap, papers scattered on the floor and tables and desk turned on their sides. I...think I'm back in Ortymer's Asylum. To my left is another brother, also handcuffed to a beam unconscious. Further left is the source of the music; playing from a radio on a chair. Not nearly as loud as when I first heard it but still unpleasant to listen to.

*Inside we both know what's been going on  
We know the game and we're gonna play it  
And if you ask me how I'm feeling  
Don't tell me you're too blind to see*

Heard the sound of squealing wheels and see the enigmatic mass murderer pushing a women in a wheelchair into view. She wasn't restrained in any form that I can tell. Her head rolled around between her shoulders, eyes in the back of her head. She wore an Afrikan style military uniform. He was dressed in the same suit I seen at Marquez's place, only less blood covered. He walked with a slight limp from where I shot him.

"I love this song. Still don't understand how it became one of the worst songs ever made. Only time people play it is too annoy someone, mainly on the internet. I might be the only person who likes getting what they call 'Rick&Rolled'. He said after noticing I was awake. I gaze at the women and wait for him to continue.

"Don't mind Karimah, she's just going to sleep. You see, I keep an eye on...people of influence. Karimah works for a man named Serge Kayaru. You may have heard of him on the news. I'll admit his soldiers are the most steadfast I've come across. Guess he does a good job in the bedroom, but I don't think he uhh...eats pussy as good as I do."

That reminded me of our first encounter, one memory I can especially do without. Suddenly the room begins to change: Everything's cleaned up and restored to order. I see my brothers and I when we were children, reading historical assassinations and being quizzed on finding ways to improve them. Then everything returns to normal. Don't know why that flashback just occurred. He finally cuts off the music.

"Serge is one of the strongest examples of everything that glitters isn't gold. Owns orphanages that sales brainwashed children. Karimah even says some of them are actually his own flesh and blood. Unbelievable isn't it? Takes a special kind of evil to pull that off. Definitely the type of character I'd like to know better."

Doesn't matter to me if Kayaru is next on his list, but it may to Diana. Maybe for the best if she doesn't know. Allow events to take their course. That's my decision without a second thought. But I can't choose for her. However this is assuming I somehow survive which looks unlikely.

"Hell of a place to grow up in. Been looking around for a while but couldn't find a fuse box. Looks like all the cloning equipment's long gone. Too bad. Did come across a large safe on the second floor. It too was cleared out but I could make little money off it."

He didn't mention the underground laboratory. I'll have to check something.

"This is your first visit?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact. Would've came before hand But 640509-040117 was reluctant to share this info. Said I'd no longer have need of him and I can see his point of view."

Appears 17 failed to give up all the details which leads me to believe he's up to something. Seems to be the most logical reason why he'd compromised our history to anyone. I'm in no position to act. Can only wait until he makes his move. My sight starts to shift and turn. Felt as if I was somehow in motion, and try to shake my head of it. 17 wakes and first turns to me, then our captor and gives him a commending nod, but the Rick&Roll fan shook his head dismissively.

"Nothing to be impressed about. When it comes down to it, everything's a matter of coincidence and circumstance, or as most would call 'luck'. You weren't there but 640509-040147 had me dead to rights in the police station if not for that cop. And getting shot in my ass wasn't on the agenda - Well not that day, but there's no such thing as a 'perfect plan'."

"You destroyed an entire police and news station for one target." I said.

"Instead of doing better things such as working for world peace? Rather leave that to wanna be world leaders. I do share the same kind of greed as them. Want something bad enough and I'll anything. A weakness of mine that'll one day be my undoing, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Reckless."

"And yet you risk your life for a paycheck. What do you do with your money hitman? Anything other than clothes on your back, food in your stomach and a gun on your waist? What difference would it make if you see tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow never existed. Merely a fairy tale for children."

"Hmm. Your even colder than I expected."

"You have what you want. Now who are you and why are we here?" 17 asked.

"I guess it's fair to answer as best I can."

Instead of finding a chair, he gets down to sit on the floor.

"As far as I know my name is John Doe. Anything more than two years back is pitch black. Amnesia the doctors say. No matches on my blood and I don't have any finger prints as if they were burned off. And nobody seems to know me. I'm sure there's some story behind it but I'll put it on my bucket list later. I only know of this bottomless appetite for...this. To others and myself."

"A sadomasochist."

"That seems appropriate."

"Why Marquez?"

"Well...I don't expect you to understand. Civilians are boring. They all share the same soul. They cry, beg and plead then once broken, there nothing there really worth the effort. Only a bunch of ants going about their lives prying to never be stepped on. Not much depth. One day I came across a wounded mobster in a back alley and took him. That man had a powerful fire in him and I wanted nothing more than to consume it. And in doing so it's as if I get a piece of me back."

He stops for a minute to inhale and exhale at his memory. I couldn't comprehend this man at all and from everything he's said, don't think I want to. However I don't think he fully understands himself.

"From that day forward I'd realized only the strong or wicked had such a soul. Like Rita Marquez, Serge Kayaru and you."

Once again I was reliving the past in fragments. Getting branded with the barcode tattoo, the doctor sticking me with the needles, the unpleasant company of my siblings. It all started flooding in. I don't know what was real.

"Salvia Divinorum. Mazatec Shamans believe the plant is an incarnation of the Virgin Mary. It's a psychoactive plant and potent producer of visions. If highly concentrated it can have more precipitous and freighting effects.

I'm back in the white room and Ortymer is in front of me. His skin is crawling as if there's a hundred worms inside slithering around, trying to escape.

"The drug along with the home sweet home setting might help bring back that old familiar feeling. The old you. Takes time to take full effect, otherwise I normally wouldn't be this longwinded. Gonna need more light. Where's the fuse box?" He asked 17.

Or was it 13? 20. 27. 38. The barcode numbers are constantly changing. And Ortymer - Despite all my assassinations and murders I never developed a passion or bloodlust for my work. If contract killing went out of business, I doubt I'd miss it. However...I very much enjoyed breaking Ortymer's neck. The one person's death I wanted. A choice I'd gladly repeat. He did bring back 'that old familiar feeling' but not the one he's hoping for. Suddenly everything I was seeing is interrupted by an explosion.

XXXXX

I directed him to the location of the fuse box then watched and waited while he connected the wires until he triggered the incendiary bomb. The force of the blast knocked him to ground and for the time being his body is immobile. It also caused a fire that began spreading quickly. Didn't inform him about the hidden lab or that I've been using it as a hideout. Planted a few traps as an alarm. It's common that intruders would most likely try to get power up and running whenever possible. Doesn't take long for the fire to cover most of the room. The three of us dying together suits me fine. Sorry I meant four. Forgotten about the women in the wheelchair, who could have been in such a state a shock, she didn't react to being burned alive.

The beams 47 and I are hanging from catch fire and I realize there could be a possibility of surviving. The flames will inevitably weaken and break them, that is if the fire on the ground doesn't cook me first. The sadomasochist is slowly starting to move, rolling on his hands and knees. It's now or never. I focused all that's left of my energy into forcing myself down, landing on my feet then falling on my left side with my hands still cuffed. The effort left me nearly exhausted but I couldn't let it stop me. 47 wasn't so fortunate; the fire reached his hands and began going down his forearms. He's still too drugged break free I think. He grinded his teeth in pain. I turn to John Doe who was now watching me with a smile and a face full of shrapnel.

"Well played." He said.

I picked up a burning log and moved toward him. He draws a gun and shoots my midsection, knocking me backwards off my feet. Lifting my head I see him stand up and aim when part of the roof crashed down in front of him, making him drop his firearm. Simultaneously, 47's beam broke. He tore off his jacket and rolled around until the fire on him was put out.

"Guess all good things come to an end."

Our captor said as he backed out the front door. I couldn't leave the same way, needed to use the emergency escape route I created within the lab. Sluggishly I rose and made my way to the entrance door which I painted the same color as the walls, making it difficult to notice. Punched in the code and was about to go through when I hear 47. He's on his feet, barely. Both of us are staggering, drugged and wounded. It could easily go either way but while he's been burnt, I'm shot. Recalling the mistake I made at the Snowden's household, I decide to withdraw. He tries to follow but I back myself through the doorway and it slides shut.

XXXX

Damn it! That was the last known exit. My hands and forearms are burnt badly. All I could do was keeping my fist clinch to protect my palms. Doesn't matter now. Not many places to go and I'm still seeing triple. Diana and Father Vittorio are twisting within the flames, trying to reach out and pull me in.

XXXX

I'm roughly a mile away after emerging out of the tunnel. The Asylum is completely engulfed in flames and collapsing but there's no time to stand around and watch. Needed medicinal treatment ASAP. May you rest in peace Agent 47.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who took timeout to read through all of my blah-blah-blah. Please keep the reviews coming and let me know if you have any questions. Ok, I'm ready to move forward. Read at your own risk.

Chapter 10: If Whatever Doesn't Kill You…

This is my father's place here in Prague: The most expensive house in this high class suburb. Never shy to show off his success as doctor and plastic surgeon. I had to park block away because it is too crowded with all his friends here. Today is his birthday and I'm late for party. I have a gold locket with a picture of him and mother inside. Probably won't count for much. Rented a black tuxedo for occasion and bought pair of shades to hide swollen left eye. Cracked ribs slowed my walk. It was all a parting gift from debt collectors yesterday. Left Blackjack table with twenty grand and the fuckers somehow heard about it. Now I've return to square zero and…ah fuck it. Get through this mess first then see what happens. I ring doorbell and father answers, wearing a white tuxedo with a red rose. While I have shaved head and five o' clock shadow, he has slick back hair that he likes to dye blonde and full bread.

"Well, decided to come after all did you."

"Happy birthday father, you look well."

"Of course I do. Look halfway decent yourself Delio, despite this cheap suit you wear. Come in."

Maybe twenty people here: Father's colleagues, former patients and probably his next ex-wife. Between clothes and jewelry I'd say there's one hundred thousand dollars in this house. For music there's a live piano player. I even see ice sculpture of mermaid at center of dinner table. Some of these people I've already met but have nothing in common with. Make same old small talk: How are you doing? Nice weather we're having. What do you do for a living? When are you returning to school and be like your dad? Some guy even said 'how about those yanks?' Like anybody in Prague gives a shit about American Baseball. What a fucking prick. After meet and greet I load a plate with lobster and shrimp and sit at dinner table, which is between 12 and 20 feet long. The guest must've eaten earlier because I sit alone, and that suits me fine. Halfway through meal when I hear someone start tapping their glass. Hoped I'd already missed dinner speech.

"May I have your attention please? Thank all of you for coming today. I am blessed to have you in my life. True friends who helped me get where I stand today."

That's cue for applause, they all follow suit.

"And my son Delio, who even though has yet to learn proper English and may prefer the lower things in life, I still care for."

I raised my glass in response. Might as well flow with it. He walked through the crowd coming in my direction.

"Despite the path I laid out for him to a brighter future, he chooses to clean up shit. I mean there must be some mind blowing perks to being a janitor. In fact nobody needs to worry about cleaning after themselves, because Delio has it covered."

Father is now standing beside me with a hand on my shoulder. I continue eating while he preaches.

"My son also has more work in gambling, so I guess in his own way he has followed my footsteps having two jobs. While not having a handsome face he does have his mother's eyes. Don't know why he hides them, trying to look like James Bond."

He removes my shades, revealing my bruised eye. Heard gasps in crowd. That wiped smirk off his face and now he starts looking embarrassed, then quickly pulls my arm for me to stand.

"Uh excuse me everyone, I'll be back shortly!"

We rush off to his bedroom and he slams door shut.

"How dare you come to my party looking like that? I told you to leave your problems outside this house!"

"Better when I look like James Bond, yes?"

"Curb the sarcasm Delio."

"Of course, I had forgotten you alone have privilege."

"Enough! I'm not doing this on my birthday. What's the bottom line here?"

"There is no bottom line. I only came to-"

"It's money. Delio I've already made myself clear: You want something then you must earn it. Return to college to become doctor and quit piss cleaning. And get rid of that Charlie girl."

"Her name is Maverick Wei and she is not Vietnamese."

"Still a looks like a spook however way you cut it. Now are you ready to do the right thing for once in your life and ascend above this nonsense you call a living?"

I forced a smile and hugged him, then put my gift on his nightstand.

"Enjoy your birthday." I said before leaving.

On my way out I spot some of the guest sniffing cocaine, courtesy of father's new dealer and my on again off again employer, Margaux Leblanc. Once he vacations in the states and somehow became connected with her. Been buying from Leblanc for more than a year. Maybe she has better product or cheaper prices than local dealers. Don't think that bolds well for them, but not my problem. Father could be trying to sleep with her but she's not type to mix business with pleasure. This is how my team got work from her though father doesn't know it or type of cleaning I do. Prefer it that way for now. Funny thing is I was thinking of accepting his ultimatum until he called me out and disrespected Mav.

It was last resort to pay back Andre and Mav both, but I can only take my old man's crap for so long. Nine to five works this way, yes? Nose deep in shit taking that human body stops having bowel movements. Eventually I may return but right now I'm too steamed about it. Wasn't going to stay long either way. Need to catch early flight in mourning.

Ah fuck! Goddamn clock alarm! Need to take fucking shower and make piece of shit flight to meet dickhead friends. Yes, I'm grumpy in mourning so fuck yourself.

After shower and coffee I fly out to Taipei where martial arts tournament is held yearly. Only care because Maverick is competing and asked me to come, taking place in a dome with some Chinese name. Parking lot is full but there's one bike present and I know it is Mav's, bike as in bicycle. She owns a car but only drives it in winter time. Saving gas money I believe. Got front row seats thanks to her. I find and sit next to Andre who is too busy sucking face with some bimbo to notice me. He's startled when I slap his shoulder.

"Good to see you comrade. I was worried you'd miss fight with your date."

"Sky this is Delio. Delio meet Sky."

"Whatzzup yo. Wut da deal-io Delio?"

I hate her already. Can't stand people who suffer identity crisis. She's a Chinese with short spikey hair, one half white and the other purple. I'd consider her pretty if not for too much make-up. And she wearing dark…what are they called? Yes, dark Goth looking clothes with pink plaid skirt, black and white socks and platform boots. To top it off she speaks with black accent. There's no greater form of self-hate then…whatever this women is. Her name is Sky; perhaps that is where her mind resides. Andre knows how to pick'em.

I shook her hand and looked to the mat. Luckily there's a Chinese and English announcer. Trying to draw in wider crowd I think. Two girls wearing those…Kung Fu uniforms enter the mat and begin. Heard that different color belts represent some kind of rank but I'm halfway paying attention. Told you I'm not much into Kung Fu and would rather Boxing. It looks flashy on TV and I've seen Mav in action, but I'd like to see best of both worlds go at it, see what it's really worth. Muhammad vs. Bruce Lee maybe. After three matches they finally get to Maverick. Last year she finished in fifth place and has worked hard to improve herself. Andre breaks from smacking lips secession when he hears her name called. The Sky women seemed upset not all his attention is on her. Ugh, where he sees Xmas I only see Halloween.

"Yo ain't we in da middle of something?" She asked.

"Pick up where we left off just after this fight." He replied.

"Thought I was your date."

"Hey baby like I said-"

"Shhhhh! Mav's about to start." I interrupted.

XXXXXXX

My opponent is Li Pak Ling who is skilled in Tai Chi, a defensive style by nature. Been focusing on my Qigong to relax and brace myself. Have to approach lightly and avoid the enemy's strong points but still need to feel her out to be certain. Try to pull her outside her own comfort zone. As the match begins we bow, assume our stances and circle each other. I lead with a punch which is easily deflected but I don't launch a full combo yet. While weaving from side to side I use stick and move tactics and slowly move forward. It proves effective; she blocks every strike but I made her back away until she steps off the mat, earning my first point. Ling returns to the mat and the next round begins. I use my same strategy again. Took longer but I still force her off once more.

Eagerly running back to me, I see she is becoming annoyed. Time to switch things up before Ling adapts. Now I don't move first. Instead we circle one another again. She wants me to press forward but I refuse, not even throwing a single punch or kick. This seems to irritate her into action, charging at me with waves of hand strikes. Blocking and evading them but I see Ling is now too trying to back me off the mat. She's good but overly aggressive, a weak point I exploit by intercepting an open palm blow, positioning my back against her, then tossing Ling over my shoulder.

The crowd has begun cheering in my favor however I have no interest in entertaining them. I compete for myself. Delio and Andre are a big enough audience. Ling now tries using my stick and move tactics. I constantly move or roll from one side to the next, preventing her goals. She halts her assault upon realizing it was ineffective and I go on the offensive. Her defense remains steadfast however. I launch a roundhouse which she ducks and then lands a palm strike to my abdomen. The force of the blow backed me away and I dropped to my right knee, feeling the pain travel throughout my body.

She earned a point but it wasn't enough for her. She came at me while I was down, grabbing hold of my head and tried to shove her knee in my face out of spite but I reacted and caught it, and threw it away hard enough to make her lose balance. She quickly rose again and tried rushing when the arbitrator stepped in and attempted to hold her back, but Ling struck him down and continued her pursuit. Needed more time to recover and she knows this. Deflected what blows I could but eventually I'm hit with an elbow to my temple, knocking me back down. Try rolling to hands and knees but Ling is relentless and now I've become aggravated. She lifts her leg and drops her hill. I catch it and shove my left hand between her legs.

XXXXXXX

Holy shit! Mav hit that girl's pussy! Scratch that, her hand went in pussy! Not whole hand I think. Happened so fast but I say three or four fingers. Fight is over now. Poor girl seems ready to cry, limping in a circle with hands covering special place, and she is bleeding. The crowd all gasped, few even laughed. Not like taking hit to balls. Think it's more like…hard object suddenly shoved up your ass out of the blue. Mav strolled off mat while other women had someone carry her. If she has no children it might now be too late to start. I know they say 'whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger' but I doubt that'll be the case for Ling. Not to say she didn't have it coming when it got personal and she acted like a real bitch, but Maverick's always been a little too quick to overreact when provoked. Everything's on hold while judges make up their mind. The Ling person was already disqualified for hitting ref and Mav could be too for illegal blow. She stands in corner looking worried. That move was going to cost something. She looked in our direction and we cheered her on for support. Me and Andre anyway.

His fuck buddy was busy checking her make-up with little handheld mirror. After ten minutes the judges finally decide to let Mav stay but would be down three points in next match. Probably thanks to ref since he didn't like getting hit. She lit up upon hearing this. After two more matches it's her turn again. Losing three points means this fight's gonna be harder, and to top it off her opponent lands first blow with swift kick to Mav's chest.

XXXXXX

_"Guards, put him in the black box. It's time for disciplinary action for disobedience."_

_They grab my arms and drag me down the hall to the doctor's office where the black box is. I fight and shout but just get tazed for my efforts. The black box is so small inside that my knees touch my chin. They warp chains around the door to prevent me from opening the door. It's so dark and uncomfortable and frightening that most of us hate spending a night here, except for me. Even though I protest, this is the only place I feel…safe; away from the doctors, guards, my brothers and Ortymer. I despised all of them. My body may ache but the pain is worth it. The guards are talking about treating the boys to a day on the outside for good behavior. I plead to be freed and they continue with their mocking and teasing, but I'm merely putting on a performance. They'll never know that I'd rather be in here. Five minutes later they finally leave and I'm alone at last. As time passes I start drifting off to sleep._

_(Crash)_

_Loud thunderous noises wake me. There's the sound of something burning and…the floor beneath me collapsed and I was sliding down fast! The black box went fast enough to crash through something, rolled once and stopped. Was this a new form of punishment? How did they discover my secret? I no longer felt safe and wanted to get out. Don't care if the chains were still warped around the door, I'm getting out of here._

_XXXXXXX_

_Required a few moments to climb out. Heard the sound of my bones cracking as I stretched. Behind me are the remains of the Asylum, now a burning pile of rubble. I came out of the safe or the black box as it used to be called in my former years. Unlikely 17 told our captor its true purpose, as he assumed it was to store materialistic valuables. This is merely guesswork but I think since the safe was stationed on the second floor, the fire destroyed some of the supporting pillars, forcing the second floor to crash down on an angle causing the safe to slide with enough speed to break through an old and already weaken wall leading outside. The black box…I had completely forgotten about. The drug induced dream state I was in lead me to it, otherwise I may have never considered it. A positive effect of the Salvia, and fortunate I could still fit inside the safe. It appears I'm only alive solely because of luck. Or coincidence and circumstance as my enemy put it._

_Romania at dusk. My body ached as I walked along a mostly empty highway, still wearing the two pair of handcuffs and burn wounds on both forearms. Four different drivers have stopped beside me offering aid, but I discourage each of them. Half an hour passes before my preferred vehicle approaches – a police cruiser. I step out onto the road with my arms in the air playing victim. It stopped in front of me and two officers came out. I hoped there would be only one, but things rarely work out as desired._

_"Sir what happen? Are you alright?"_

_I frantically gasp for air with my arms in front and stagger toward the one on the left, dropping to my knees as I reached him. _

_"He's been burned! Get on the radio and call an ambulance!"_

_His partner turned his back and that was the moment I've been waiting for. I snatch the sidearm from the holster and shot him in his left foot, rushed to a standing position to knock him down, then fired two more rounds into his partner's gun arm and thigh as he spun around. The one below me tried to move and I responded by putting another bullet in his right foot, trying to avoid getting as much blood as possible on the uniforms. Once control was established I made them strip to their underwear and cuff themselves, blindfold and gaged them with some of their clothes, then knocked them unconscious and put the bodies in the trunk and backseat. _

_I could be here for a day or two. Want to take the time for the drugs to leave my system and to heal while I decide my next move, so I'll keep a low profile. Dead police would draw attention. The cuffs on me weren't standard so their keys couldn't unlock them. However I did find a stack of reports held together by a paper clip which worked well enough. The disguise and Glock 17's are a bonus but my goal was the car's laptop. It's been more than a decade since I've seen Romania so I expect the layout has undergone changes. I use the computer as a guide to direct me to a pharmacy where I purchase medical supplies and bandages using the officer's money._

_Next is to find someplace quiet as a hideout. The first abandon building I tried had too many homeless residents; a second was a gang hideout. As I drove around I come across what looked to be a gas station. It's boarded up with bullet holes and burn marks. I type in the location and the laptop informs me of a gunfight that happened a month ago, which resulted in the gas tanks blowing up. The owner has since closed shop for a new profession. This will do well enough. Police dispatch starts making repeated calls. I wake one of the officers and give him certain instructions on responding then put him back to sleep. _

_I intend to call Diana using the patrolmen's cell phone but do I mention that Mr. Rick&Roll is targeting Kayaru? Her recent behavior will be seen as a weakness by our rivals and possibly the ICA…Diana can handle herself. I'm not responsible for her. Whatever happens is her decision and with that I make the call._

_"Agency, this is 47. Patch me through to Diana."_

_"We need to confirm your ID-Registration please."_

_"My number is Bro3886."_

_"Agent 47 my name is Phylicia. Ms. Burnwood left on a mission and has asked we search for you. Do you require assistance sir?"_

_"No. Tell me more about this mission."_

_"She didn't tell us about it sir, but she did take a security team along. I suspect it has to do with Serge Kayaru."_

_"Why do you say that?"_

_"We helped cover up an incident in the UK. She refused to elaborate but I believe Ms. Burnwood was attacked by Kayaru. Four of his guards were killed, one of which was…beaten to death with a child's car seat."_

_At first I thought Diana finally decided to end Kayaru but if she's doing this personally…hmm. And with the mass murderer after him as well the odds are not in her favor. With the damage he sustained I'd presume he'd take the time to heal, but this train of thought has nearly cost me my life. Twice._

_"Agent 47 sir? In light of recent events I feel the obvious should be stated: Ms. Burnwood is an exceptional controller and one of the best assets to the Agency. However it seems she has become emotionally compromised. Wouldn't you agree sir?"_

_"What do you suggest?"_

_"Perhaps it is time to cut ties sir."_

_"Bold. There's more to you then your file suggest, Ms. Elliott."_

_"You…know my name and read my file?"_

_"28 years old, parents killed in a boating accident, raised by your uncle William who currently lives in Liverpool."_

_"Sir…I wasn't aware…"_

_"She has files of everyone in the agency and has paid me a large sum to destroy potential threats."_

_"Why are you telling me this?"_

_"I'm certain there are contingency plans in place for myself as well, and if what you say about this bashing a women's skull cover-up is true, this may not be the most adequate opportunity for this discussion."_

_"I…hadn't considered that sir, maybe your right."_

_"But…if I should discover something we can resume this topic. You'll contact me if you do the same."_

_"I'LL keep you posted sir."_

_Since the war with the Franchise, my terms for returning to the Agency were I'd be allowed access to the personal records without their knowledge. Phylicia Elliott is a recent hire; very productive controller and ambitious, not uncommon in the ICA. I bought Diana some time with my fabrications but I still prefer to keep my options open. Because I won't deny the fact that Elliot is correct, but first I have to see how this plays out before choosing a side. There's one other matter which should resolved before going further._

_"Anything more Agent 47?"_

_"I want Intel on Serge Kayaru including his current whereabouts. Also, contact a cleaning crew to my location. The names are Andre Neskoromny, Delio Gavanski and Maverick Wei."_


	11. Chapter 11

(11) Clean Up On Aisle Forty Seven

To be honest I didn't think Maverick would make it this far – the finals. Thought below the belt hit was beginning of end but it didn't even slow her down. May have scared other fighters even. First there are a couple of matches which gives her moment to catch breath before her turn again. Andre went back to sucking face with what's-her-name. Mav is worn out and beat up but wearing a smile, pleased with herself and she's only been at this Kung Fu stuff for almost two years. Hell I'm proud of her, even though I b - my phone's vibrating. I told people I'm taking off today.

"Hello?"

"Good evening Mr. Gavaski. Are you and your team available for hire at the moment?"

"Busy tonight. Take rain check."

"Agent 47 is offering a bonus in Romania. We will provide transport and some equipment."

"You're not serious. 47?"

"Unlikely he has a sense of humor Mr. Gavaski."

"We're in Taipei…"

"There will be a jet waiting in the airport."

"Give me twenty minutes to talk with my crew."

"I'll call back in five."

I stood up and shook Andre's shoulder.

"WHAT."

"Me, you and Mav need to talk. Just got business call."

"Not now Delio. We're here for Mav."

"Thought U here for me." His fuck buddy said.

"Wasn't speaking to you. Andre we should see Mav. The-"

"I know U ain't dissing me like dat Dealio." She said standing up.

Andre came between us and tried calming things down but it was too late. She got on my last fucking nerve.

"Talking shop with friend. You return to circus now."

"Who U think U talkin to?"

"A clown who belongs in circus, no? Or you are runaway?"

She actually tried swinging at me but Andre stopped her.

"Whoa chill the hell out girl!" He said.

"Whacha blockin me for? U suppose to have my back. Fuck all this. Buy yourself a cat Dre, cause dat's the only pussy u gettin tonight." She said before storming off.

"At least the cat pussy is real!" I shouted after her.

Sky raised her hand showing most of her fingers except the middle as she left. I turned back to Andre, wondering what that was supposed to mean.

"She's…has Dyslexia."

"My English is not that good comrade. Can you explain?"

"Long story short, she says fuck you. And right now I agree."

We got as close as they allowed but Mav came rest of way. Think she saw commotion with Sky girl. Security let us by on her say so.

"Shitty timing I know but we have offer from 47. Bonus if we go now."

"Why didn't you say so? Let's pack up run whenever the fuck he calls."

"This is what we're waiting for: Job from high profile client."

"Who took our money and scared the shit outta us."

"Think he do it again for kicks?"

"I think I'd rather stick with the evil I know over the evil I don't."

"She good employer but we get limited work from Ms. Leblanc. "She knows this and that is why we were pointed in this direction."

"Mav tonight's your night. Been busting your ass to get here. Can't toss all that out the window so we're staying right? FUCK 47."

She crossed her arms and paced from side to side while hearing us out. Then she kept looking back and forth between the mat and us. I'm asking a lot so I can't blame her for saying no. Expression on her face says she's thinking about more than this but I have no idea what. She just has this far off look in her eye, as if somewhere else.

"Mav? What's wrong? Andre asked.

"…its okay if you want to stay I understand." I said.

Felt my phone again but I almost didn't pick it up watching Mav.

"May I have your answer Mr. Gavaski?"

Maverick came back from wherever and nodded. I'm thrilled but also tempted to say no.

"We're in." I replied. The other person then hung up.

"This has got to be a goddamn joke!" Andre shouted.

"We need you Andre."

"Delio I swear to god if this goes sideways-"

"I know."

"No Delio, you don't. Hope you won't have to find out."

Thought it takes maybe two or three days, but they got us here in nineteen hours. Used to live in Romania once and know lay of land kind of. After landing we are given basic cleaning gear and a van to transport it all. I was told to call a curtain number for destination. Voice instructed on route to take and we are on way. Wasn't happy with myself for screwing up Maverick and Andre's evening but today I make up for it, and for money lost last time. She stared out window while he is downloading something with his phone.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Paid a guy to record Maverick's fights. Now I'm putting it on YouTube. What do you think I should title it Mav? The Finger Fuck technique? Kung Fu rapist?"

She exhaled and shook her head.

"Shame I didn't get the whole thing though. Really Mav why'd you call it off? Are you scared of losing, is that it?"

She has this slightly worried look in eyes while responding softly. It may seem strange to have conversation when you don't understand other person, but we do it anyway. They're still just human. Funny she understands us better than we do her most of time I think, and despite her fuck off exterior Mav's a sweetheart inside. Cop car comes behind us and turns on lights.

"Perfect end to a perfect day." Andre mumbled as I pulled to side of road.

Maybe I'm…paranoid but I suspect cop getting out of car is dirty. I wasn't speeding and van is tip top. Could be local prick squeezing tourist for money. Got half of mind to bury him. Know a few spots can work.

"All of you, step out of the van and place your hands on the roof. Please."

It's 47! And he points gun at me. We do as told and he pats us down and takes our guns.

"Return inside and follow me."

Hour's drive leads to closed down gas station recently reopened by hitman. Strange place to do clean up since it's closed and police not likely to come search for anything. We walk inside and stop in between an aisle. Time for business.

"Money upfront." I stated.

He pulled wade of cash from pocket and gave it to me. I count two hundred and six dollars.

"What is this?"

"Your bonus."

"And that is all?"

"All."

This barcoded fuck must be joking. He better be…

"And rest of payment?" Couldn't hide anger in my voice.

"Upon completion of your assignment. Clean up this area."

"We do nothing until paid."

"I've shown you the door."

He just turns around and walks off through a restroom door in back! Two hundred dollar bonus? Then thinks he can stiff us out of paying. Who…who the fuck does he think he is! I put up with father's shit on his birthday and drag Mav and Andre here to take Forty-Fucking-Seven's shit now! I gotta get out. Gotta do something…there's police belt hanging on doorknob we entered. I grab gun from holster, make sure it is loaded and safety off.

"Whoa Delio, the fuck are you doing?"

Barly hear him over sound of my heartbeat. Agent Forty-Fucking-Seven steps back out and I point gun at him. He just stops and does nothing. Mav and Andre come to my sides, both look scared.

"I'm getting back our money and what is owed to us. For big shot agent 47 somebody will have contract for. Slowly pull out your gun and drop it. You're coming with us."

"Not an option. Surrender the firearm or shoot."

"You have no choice hitman."

"I've already made mine, your turn."

"Delio…take this slow and think it through. You kill him and Burnwood could come after us." Andre said.

"How will she know we did anything? Let's play cards right: Turn him over to his rivals, get proper payment and respect. Maybe they shield us from Burnwood as reward."

"That's a big ass maybe…"

"Rather keep take his crap?"

"Better than taking his bullets."

"I'm sorry comrade. This is my fault. Brought both of you in my mess but now I fix it!"

"Delio!"

I aim for kneecap and squeeze trigger… (Boom)…gun blows up in hand! Feel myself fall backwards. Pieces of gun impale right shoulder and cut side of neck. Fuck it hurts like hell! But if I were aiming at his face I'd probably be dead now. Instead I get to be dead in the next few minutes. Mav stood stunned while Andre was quick on his feet and started wrapping bandage around my neck, not that it matters.

"You neglected to inspect the chamber Mr. Gavaski." 47 said while revealing his pistol. I shut my eyes.

(Gunshot)

…I'm alive? I look around – ah! Neck and shoulder still hurt like bitch; yeah still alive. It…it was Maverick. She's holding her bleeding left hand. She…I think she tried to stop 47! And got shot in the hand. She's hunched over grinding teeth but not screaming. 47 ceased shooting and started speaking Cantonese. A private conversation between him and Mav. Fuck I wish I knew language!

Foolish decision Ms. Wei.

Yes…and I have no regrets with it.

You want to die for him?

Not for him. For me.

Your dossier says otherwise.

I. Am. Not. My dossier.

"…"

I admit: While I worked as a coroner for the Singapore police, I became connected with the Triads. Sometimes they would call me to clean up their murders. I did this as a means of making extra money. Then the police began shutting down their operations and they came to the conclusion there was a deep cover cop within their ranks. They…pressured me to learn this person's identity – Yeung Wo Ping. The Triads kidnaped and killed her two brothers, then mailed pieces of them to her for weeks. She went after them…and was beaten and raped, nearly to death. Singapore's most promising detective is now pregnant and works in a book store. I acted as a coward would…and it shames me. I will never face such a choice again

…So you seek absolution.

"….."

Maverick and 47 stared at each other for full 109 seconds. Expression on his face gave me chills, as if he was looking directly into her soul. And to my shock he holstered his gun. Then he pulled out cell phone and made call and after brief conversation, he puts it on speaker and holds it out for us to hear.

"Mr. Gavaski, Ms. Wei and Mr. Neskoromny – I have been authorized to transfer $100,000 into each of your accounts. All that is required is your approval."

I am at lost for words. I just stand lay there with mouth open uttering noises.

"Yes we approve! Thank you!" Andre answered.

"You're welcome. Have a pleasant day."

With that, 47 hung up the phone.

"You're hired."

Nobody spoke. Still processing what's happening.

"There is a pair of law enforcers in the bathroom handcuffed to the toilet. Clean yourselves up and dispose of them as you will."

He said something else to Mav and she bowed her head, then he walked past us through the front door, got in cop car and left.

"I'm dying to know what you two talked about Mav." Andre asked

She just shrugged. No point in asking 'cause we wouldn't understand anyway, but I'm will find out. For now I can't stop grinning.

"More than tripled our investment." I said.

"Only because Maverick saved your sorry ass. At the cost of a hole in her hand at that." He replied while wrapping up her wound.

He's right. Because of me Romania almost became our resting place. I owe them both and will pay up after job is done. Once we're ready we check bodies in bathroom. Both are blindfolded and gaged but alive.

"He said dispose of them however we want." Andre stated.

"I know good place to bury them four miles from here."

Mav tapped both our shoulders to get attention and shakes her head in disagreement. She walks index and middle finger along her forearm before letting her hand fly off at elbow.

"Let'em go?"

She nodded.

I was about to argue but since I'm still alive, I have no reason to.

"If that's you want Maverick."

We finish cleaning area though Andre had to do more of the work since me and Mav are hurt, and ditch cops near hospital. During drive to airport I hear my phone but it's not in pockets.

"This slipped out at the gas station." Andre handed it to me.

"Thanks, but just tell whoever I'll call later."

Didn't want to do another job. Not until I got neck and shoulder looked at first, so I let him answer.

"Hello, this is Delio's phone. Uh-hun…oh. Okay…yeah I'm about to tell him. Thanks."

"Tell me what?"

"Pull over."

"Why?"

"Pull the fucking car over Delio."

I park on side of road, not looking forward to what his pissed about. Everybody steps out of van.

"That was a friend of yours who wanted to let you know the winnings from Maverick's fight is ready to be picked up. You bet against her."

"Oh shit…"

"You got Mav to quit her fight and drag us through this shit with 47 all to win a goddamn bet!?"

"I-I know how it looks but I tell truth: That was never intention. She's new, just started two years ago compared to other fighters who do it from childhood so I thought they have edge. That is only reason behind it. And I want to give winnings to you both."

"Keep it. If fact, I'll add to your investment."

Punch to my stomach and hook to my face. I went down easily. Fuck what you think because I say body blows hurt more then head blows. When you're hit in face, pain stays there but shots to body you feel in whole body. I spit up blood and cover stomach with arms. Andre wanted to hit me more but Maverick come between us and kept holding him back.

"You should be the one who's pissed Mav. You blew your fight and got a hole in your hand for it."

She gave him that sentimental expression, kind you can't say no to, and spoke softly. Does not matter what was said but how it's said that always seems to calm us down. Not as easy when it's other way around.

"I don't know about you Mav but I'm done. We'll fly back and after that we part ways. I don't need you to say shit to me the whole ride back Delio."

"Andre-"

"47 ain't here so close your cock hole and drive."

Second time this group has surprised me, especially Maverick Wei. I presumed her attempt to stop me from killing Gavaski streamed from a misplaced sense of compassion. Even stranger still given her history. She did what was necessary to survive but is not at peace with it, and would rather face death than make a choice to live that is bread from fear. Now I see that Wei's actions were not for Gavanski but for herself. That was…most unexpected. My perception of the Cleaners has been inaccurate, which is the reason I decided to hire them, but that's not all. I've been wrong about my latest target. As a result I was defeated and nearly tortured to death. I was also wrong about Diana. When she turned me over to the Franchise I believed I knew where she stood. But it wasn't until this battle with Serge that I've witnessed her true colors. These turn of events have given me a pause for thought. Once out of Romania I head to one of my hideouts pick up some weapons and other gear. Still undecided which side I'll choose but I am certain of one fact: This isn't going to end well.


	12. Chapter 12

(12) I'm The First, Last…And Only

"Where's Karimah and her unit? They haven't reported back in the last five days."

"Witnesses' claim they were ambushed while out on patrol. A white man in a brown fancy suit was there but none could describe facial features. That is the information known to us Serge."

"They have crossed over to the other world by now."

"I think we know who sent them there – your Diana Burnwood. It appears she finally has unleashed Mr. 47 upon us, kidnapping our troops."

"She has no need for him to know about me. He is nothing more than a glorified attack dog. All a dog wants is to be fed a bone Basil."

"You had best be right. Is this why you have most of your soldiers present?"

"Diana wanted them here. And as a favor to you and her, no children will partake in this.

"This has to be a setup Serge."

"Maybe she'll take our lives but that won't stop our progress and she knows it."

"Didn't seem to matter when you saw her last."

"Those who do not learn from the past are doom to repeat it. With that, it is not possible I'll relive the same error Basil."

"Only time alone will tell. She's coming."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Football stadium is now in visual range. Unlike the one I've visited previously, this one is still under construction. The stadium is in the center of a vast empty parking lot. Upon our approach the gates were opened and we proceeded to drive into the middle of the field. There are stacks of steel beams, trucks and other parked vehicles scatted about in the grass. My phone has been turned off because I'm not accepting contracts from clients at this time, but after today I may never again. Serge, his brother Basil and a large number of their bodyguards are waiting for us or me rather. I've brought twenty men but they are outnumbered, as well as in the center of the field. For certain there are snipers hidden within the stands. I am at a tactical disadvantage, however I need to be if there's a chance of this succeeding.

"Welcome back Diana. Although I'm glad you've returned. I'm at a loss as to why you chose to meet here. As I recall you don't care for Football."

"And why did you want our soldiers here, Ms. Burnwood." Basil said.

Unlike Serge he wears a dark green military uniform and has long Dreadlocks and a goatee. Perhaps long enough to strangle the both of them with.

"I wanted you to be comfortable in familiar surroundings. You also have the high ground if need be."

"Try anything and we will-"

"Precisely."

"It won't go that far." Serge responded to Basil.

"Impressive isn't it? The empire we have built."

"I won't deny you've made an impression but I am far from impressed."

"I don't see why. You've become a powerful controller for the Agency after our time together. It has helped shaped me into the man I am today."

"I'm listening."

"It's something I learned when I lost you. In fact it's the only path for people to evolve: Through loss. The brightest days are always overshadowed by the darkest nights. Sweetness in victory, bitterness in defeat, but it plants roots that run deeper. That's what really drives us forward. It pained me deeply when you left, and as I learned of your achievements, I knew I had to elevate myself to your level. It leads to dealings in Rio de Janeiro – Brazil. The Comando Vermelho gang was at war with the Terceiro Comando Puro and Amigos dos Amigos."

"And you traded weapons and information to all sides than joined the winning party."

"You haven't forgotten how I work or use to for that matter. Terceiro Comando Puro, the TCP came out on top and rewarded us with access to their youth."

"Where you step in and brainwash them."

"I am to blame for that? Those children were stealing and killing before Basil and I even set foot in Brazil. The TCP came across a wonderful idea with infinite potential but all they wanted to do is drug running. It's such small scale thinking. We gave them a purpose. A chance to live a violent free…mostly a violent free life away from the all the wars and out of harm's way. They abandoned the TCP in droves."

"Surprising the TCP let you escape in one piece."

"Not much they could do at that point. And it's not just Brazil; there're children who are lost and abandoned in other parts of the world as well and we offer guidance everywhere we can. For this I have to thank you. If you never left I may have never reached this point, where we are now."

"There are no similarities between us Serge."

"The bottom line is you kill for money, or rather your Mr.47 does it for you. I'm disrupting the slave trade, saved more lives than you have taken, and bringing about change. I want you join me in this ambitious undertaking. Forget about the Agency. Bring your pet hitman if you wish."

"Compared to you Serge, he's an up-standing citizen."

"Is that a joke Diana? He couldn't possibly fill my role in this lifetime or the next."

Thank god for that, I thought to myself. Not that it matters, since 47 is mostly likely…

"So, are you ready to leave?"

"There's something that needs to be cleared first; all your female bodyguards."

"They can protect us as well as your men can."

"No. It's the fact that you slept with them. If we are to have a new beginning then I must be the first, last...and only."

I drawled my pistol and shot one of them in the head. Everyone is shocked at my sudden action and takes a few steps back. The guards are on alert with their AK-47's pointed at me. They want to return fire but I know they won't. I began pacing from left to right.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Basil shouted.

"My men will provide the protection from here on out. So rest ashore."

I shoot and kill another one.

"Stop this Diana!" Serge yelled.

"As I stated, I'll protect us, and there can be no one else. You recall that's how our relationship ended. Either they go or I do." I stop in front of him, put the gun to my temple and squeeze the trigger. Click.

"God!" Terror is building in his eyes and at that moment, all felt right with the world.

"Oh dear, it appears my weapon has misfired. Suppose I'd forgotten to perform the basic maintenance. Can one of you lend your sidearm please?" I spoke to my men.

"It is a sigh that it is not your time Diana." Serge said in an uneasy tone of voice.

"We'll know for certain in the next five seconds." This time I place the second gun under my chin.

"Enough! No more! Alright, my soldiers in the stands come down, as a sigh of good faith."

"This puts us at greater risk Serge!" Basil claimed

"We still have the home field advantage. All snipers leave your post. Now."

They hesitated at first but then followed instructions. Are these women really willing to compromise themselves on his orders? Their devotion to this man is unnerving. Moments later they appeared in the far corners of the field. This is playing out better than expected but I'm not in the clear by far.

"You can't possible think-"

"I know this is difficult so I'll try to make this transition somewhat easier by offering another option. One of three things happens next. It's them, me…or Basil. Sharing and being shared are not both acceptable options for me."

"Hahahahahahahaha. Then it's you Burnwood. Hahahahaha." Basil laughed.

Serge wasn't amused at all. His eyes remained locked on mine.

"Come on she's bluffing." Basil concluded.

"In the time you've known me, have I ever bluffed about anything Serge?"

"No, you haven't Diana."

"Like it matters. We're not throwing away our forces for you. And nothing is thicker the blood." Basil stated.

"Then we are in agreement, I die. Isn't that correct Serge?"

He looked down on his feet and didn't respond. Instead he takes a deep breath and slowly looks back and forth on Basil and me.

"You can't actually be considering this! I've looked after you all my life, through all the blood and pain, always being there where needed! After everything we've created together…"

While Basil was trying to reason with him, I step forward until standing directly in front of Serge with the gun still pressed against my chin, and kiss him. Gradually he took me in his arms. It was difficult hiding my disgust and resisting the urge to vomit.

"Goodbye." I said backing away.

He stopped me before I was out of reach and I allowed him to pull the pistol away from me.

"This isn't goodbye." He replied and then turned to face his brother.

He has chosen me over Basil which is exactly the desired effect. Removing him from the picture brings me multiple steps closer to undermining their operation completely. Basil drew his firearm and in turn, the guards pointed theirs in his direction. The women were loyal to Serge but not his brother for some reason.

"She has turned you against me, against us!"

"I am sorry Basil."

"Fuck your sorry. You made your decision."

"We have a truck approaching." A guard spoke through a radio. "Orders?"

"Detain and investigate." Serge replied.

"A friend of yours?" Basil asked me.

"None those are still alive."

I turn around to see through the way we entered that a white truck was indeed driving toward this location. It stopped perhaps 20 yards from the gates and 65 yards from us I presume. It then turned to the left and backed up until all I could make out was its side door. Two of Serge's soldiers are making their way to it. As they arrive the driver steps out and talks with them.

"Sir, he claims someone paid him $5,000 to drive this truck here but doesn't know the person's name, or what he is carrying."

"Make him open it."

At gunpoint he walks to the side door facing us. The guards take a few steps back with their weapons ready. Sensing a threat, I slowly move away until I'm near some cover but remain in sight of the truck. I fear it could be a bomb of some sort. The driver slides open the door. Whatever is inside is has been cover. Something large. The driver is reluctant to unveil it but the guards fire warning shots and he follows suit. Underneath…is a…it's hard to tell from this distance but I believe it's a US. 50 Caliber Heavy Machine Gun on stilts. Everyone's full attention is now on the truck. The two guards claim inside and inspect it, then question the driver once more.

"Execute the prisoner?" One of them asked.

"Not yet. Leave the vehicle and bring him. We'll soon learn where he brought it from."

"Understood."

As they started dragging him, the suddenly came to life, turned in their direction and blasted all three, transforming them into Ketchup. Then returned facing us and opened fire. Clearly its remote controlled. I scrambled behind a stack of steel beams and reload my Witness Elite. Only loaded it with two bullets to fool Serge but that no longer matters now. Thanks to whoever is attacking, my plan has just gone up in smoke.

Serge took cover behind another stack of beams eight yards to my left, but I couldn't see Basil. Both sides are taking casualties – theirs as well as my own – but our forces were quick to adapt. They positioned themselves on both sides of the open entrance and returned fire.

"Target the gas tank!" I ordered.

That proved easier said than done. With the steady stream of bullets incoming, everyone had to rely on blind fire instead of precision shots. A few of Serge's troops began making their path back up the stands, trying to reach the roof of the dome I presume. Whoever is behind this is nearby, that much I can say for certain. Some of our vehicles are directly in the line of fire, and after taking a beating, one of them explodes with another not far behind. I'm protected by the beams but I much prefer that not happen again. However, I wasn't in much of a position to improve the situation. Morris, one of my still breathing men, rushes over to me with a blood covered cell-phone, which belongs to one of my now deceased bodyguards. At the present moment, I couldn't care less who was trying to reach me or for what reason.

"Why on earth would you answer a dead man's phone in the middle of an assault? Never mind, just get rid of that thing and keep focus on the matter at hand!"

"Shut up and answer the phone Diana." The voice on the line said.

Felt as if my heart skipped a beat. I…know that voice. Is that…?

"47? I…I can't believe your still alive!"

"I could be worse. After today I probably will be. The Agency gave me the numbers of all the personal you took with."

"Sorry, I'll turn my earphone back on. Any idea who is behind this?"

"The same man who captured me. He's now there for Serge."

"Why?"

"Can't go into detail now. Whatever your intentions are will no longer work. Escaping is the only option."

"Are you trying to recuse me 47?"

"I tracked my target to your location. Your survival…is an optional objective."

He's…he's teasing me! It's the first time I've been on the receiving end of it. He's always on the field executing assignments with his life on the line, while I feed him Intel from an earpiece or laptop. Today our roles are in reverse. The irony of our predicament is annoying but also oddly amusing.

"What's your plan?" I asked.

"No choice but to improvise."

"Where are you?"

"A few miles from the stadium. How many of you left?"

"Can't tell exactly but fewer than twenty. Can you eliminate the target before his objective is complete?"

"Diana…"

"Make no mistake 47; Serge's demise is inevitable. But it must not be today. Not yet."

"I can't guaranty my own safety, let alone yours or his. As I stated, we're improvising."

Like it or not this is the best I'm getting from him. Despite the UK disaster, neither of us had a better plan of action in dealing with the enemy. He possesses a tactical prowess and hunger for bloodshed that has proved to be overwhelming. Between him and Serge the odds were not looking kind on us. I suppose it's time I stop denying the reality of the situation.

"Just…do what you can. And 47; It's been-"

I was going to say it's been a privilege working with him when I notice from the corner of my eye that Serge was eagerly watching me, trying to listen in on the conversation. I…have a hunch on what he is thinking, and feel a smile slowly spread across my face. Here we are between life and death but yet I'm talking on a phone, and he must have witness my sudden elation upon discovering the identity of the caller. I decide to reconstruct my choice of words.

"It's been a pleasure being in your company and I look forward to seeing you again." I spoke loud enough for him to hear, then hung-up.

Serge's face dropped then and there. He has a sheer expression of sadness and disbelief. Just as I expected, he's jealous. And it hurts him deeply. Probably not a wise move on my part but I must say, it feels utterly fantastic. Anger began to slowly build in his eyes and he was about to respond when the shooting stopped. The may have finally used all its ammunition. Each of us chanced a glance at the truck. When our forces felt confident enough, they came together and unleashed everything they had on that truck. But once they did, something flew overhead from behind me and hit them with an explosion. None of them survived, and we're down to a handful guards now. I turned around and looked into the stands and saw…him. He's wearing a black bulletproof vest over a white shirt, with brown colored pants and Snakeskin boots. His face is largely covered with stiches and Band-Aids and it looked as if a chunk of his left cheek was missing. He is a few rows for the top with an RPG aimed in our general direction. I see now: The was used as part of a suppressive fire and flanking tactic. It effectively distracted all of us while he was in the clear to sneak in the back door. Now that I'm down to less than half the manpower I came with, he is holding all the cards.

"Guns on the ground." He demanded.

Reluctantly, I comply and ordered my team to do the same. Serge instructed his people to follow suit, but instead of placing his own on the ground, he hoisted it.

"It goes for you too, Serge."

"In a moment. If you can't wait, than kill me now."

"Have I given off the wrong impression?"

"If that's all you came for, I'd be on my way to the next life. So allow me an indulgence if you will."

They stared at one another for a short time and to my surprise; the assailant smiled and waited but kept his rocket pointed at us. Serge then walks over to me and snatches the phone away and redials the most recent call. He spoke almost in a whisper but was clutching the phone harder and harder.

"It's been you all along, hasn't it? You're…influence. I've been trying to pin-point the reasons she's been acting this way and I now know you are the source. You have turned her against me. I may have been out of the picture for some years, but I'm back now. And I intend to pick up where I left off. There's only enough room for me for I am the first, last...and only!"

He put enough pressure to finally break the phone and threw it away, then tossed his sidearm before returning his attention to the uninvited guest, who seemed taken aback by the display.

"Wow. I'd hate to be that guy."

"Yes. You would. Don't know why you're here and I don't care. You're trespassing on my property and normally I would respond differently. But since there's a more pressing matter I want to deal with even more than this, I'm gonna forget you made the mistake of setting foot in my world. Now vacate my Football field before you become part of it."

Now I'm the one who's taken aback. Serge has transformed into a different character since provoked. Gone was the whole Mr. Nice guy persona and in its place is Mr. Fire and brimstone. Not only threating the world's top assassin over the phone but even the psychopath who currently holds all of our lives in his hands.

"You're talking about the cops who are coming to your rescue in case you didn't call at a certain time? Your brother set that up right? Where is he? Hopefully not hiding by one of these cars I can easily blow up."

Upon hearing this, Basil rolled out from underneath one of the Venzas and stood up.

"You must be the one who took Karmiah. You couldn't have possibly turned her against me." Serge stated.

"Oh, she was tough as nails at first but…I gave her a blowjob she'll never forget." He replied then slowly ran his tongue over his front teeth. I don't want to know what that means.

"And how do you expect this story to play out in your favor exactly? The police who are in route are on my payroll and when-"

"Actually dear brother, their on mine. Following my orders." Basil interrupted. Serge turned his glare on him.

"Your pursuit of this woman has blinded you and put everything at risk, including my own life! So I took precautions. It's sad to see the action was indeed necessary. The cops on the way will fucking murder all of you! And I guess I should thank our friend up there for making their job easier."

The assailant seems to have a surprised expression which causes his stiches to bleed.

"Damn, wasn't expecting it to be a day of hidden truths and revelations. I have to say – hell, here I go being greedy again. I was only here for Serge but…now I gotta insist all three of you need come with me."

"And if I refuse?" I challenged.

"No loss to me. There's never a short supply of fish in the sea."

"How can you expect to-"

"I tell you this much: Regardless of whoever is coming, they won't get here in time to stop me from pulling this trigger. One way or the other, you three are going on a trip. So what's it gonna be?"

"I suppose one good fact about death is all my life's worries cease to be relevant."

"Isn't that the truth. Funny how most would rather hold on to those worries."

Nothing more to do but brace myself. However, something seemed to catch his eye and he immediately turned and fired several rows to his right. Caught a glimpse of the two bodies hit from the blast falling through the air – some of Serge's remaining troops. They must have been trying to sneak close enough to subdue him without setting off that rocket. I don't wish to waste time thinking about it. I grabbed my weapon and started shooting before he acquired time to reload, and fortunately everyone else had the same idea, forcing him to take cover behind the seats.

"Keep the pressure on him! I'll try to get up to his level!" Basil shouted before running off.

Interesting to see the Kayaru brothers put their conflicts aside for a common goal, at least temporally. None of us wanted to be that lunatic's prisoner. And it is a sound strategy but I had other plans, such as getting the hell away from here. But right then the came back to life once more, thus making leaving in one piece a near astronomical task.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

I can hear sirens echoing behind me. There isn't much time left. I approached the truck from behind and dropped off a pair of RU-AU mines, then got a safe distance before detonating them and taking out the heavy gun. Waited until I was right outside the stadium before calling Diana, who hopefully turned her phone back on by now.

"The exit is clear. Get to it before the police arrive."

"I've been trying since the truck blew up but my transportation is full of bullet holes. Having trouble making it start."

"Then find another set of keys."

"I'll have to search the bodies of my men in the center of the field, leaving me a bit more exposed…"

"Already have you covered."

"Your here?"

"On the roof."

Wasn't hard finding a ladder since this place is still under construction. I'm near the center coming from the north which means I see everything on the south below. I knew this mission would be bloody so I brought extra firepower: A custom SMG, some RU-AU mines along with my Sliverballers, W2000, and Fiberwire. With the sniper scope I watch Serge Kayaru and the few ground forces he has left fire up into the stands trying to eliminate the target, who was staying low while moving. Basil Kayaru is climbing up the rows trying to reach him. After a few minutes of searching through pockets, Diana finally picked up a new set of keys and made for what is hoped to be a still functioning car with only three of her guards remaining. Mr. Rick&Roll had begun firing back and hit one in Kayaru's group. All I needed to do is wait for the clean shot. Serge is already in clear view but first I want to take out the bigger threat, and the way they are exchanging bullets tells me it's only a matter of time.

And under the circumstances, Diana would think they killed each other. At last she is driving off out of the stadium but I hear the police arrive behind me. She's more than capable of navigating her way past them, and Serge doesn't want her dead. Or so I thought. The sound of gunfire rings and tires start screeching behind me.

"Diana, what's happening?"

"I'm pinned down in the parking lot! The police have no intention of letting anyone walk out alive."

"But Kayaru wants you alive."

"His brother Basil is not my biggest fan however, and the cops here work for him. Their closing in on me 47. I don't suppose you could turn your optional objective into a primary one?"

The time required to help Diana would almost certainly mean missing my chance of eliminating both targets. If I stop to save her then there's the possibility they'll survive and continue to wreak havoc. It'll also lower my chances of escape. On the other hand, both men would be dead and business resumes as usual…without Diana. The time has come for me to choose a side.


	13. Chapter 13

(13) The Un-Silent Assassin

We barely made it outside the stadium and into the parking when we were met by half a dozen police cruisers who without warning, fired upon us. My driver turned our transport to one side to offer some protection but is shot and killed before he could leave his seat, as was the passenger. I crawled out and stayed low with my only remaining guard, Morris. We returned fire when safe to do so but I'm running low on ammo. Seems I got out of the frying pan and went straight into the fire.

xxxxxxxx

Serge Kayaru got behind his remaining employee just as he began to take fire, using her as a shield before falling backwards with her on top, not moving in the slightest. He may have been shot but I suspect he is merely playing dead, which left Basil alone in a one-on-one gunfight. It is only a matter of minutes before my opening arrives…yet I am making a three-sixty to face the opposite direction, moving towards edge before laying flat on my stomach. The decision came more naturally than expected but I feel no regret about it. I've always viewed death as a risk; the price for failure. It wasn't until after this whole ordeal started that my prospective has begun to shift. Death is not simply a probability, it is an inevitability. And it makes little difference how, when or whom it occurs from. Rather it's the clearers, my enemies or a mistake I've made. Nothing changes for me if it happens now or in ten years. It may as well occur while making the choice I want, choosing the truth I like. It feels strangely illuminating to learn that my life as a hitman is not as important to me as I once believed.

Looking through the scope I see six law enforcement vehicles with two men each spread out and effectively blocking Diana's escape. They're armed with assault rifles, shotguns and body armor. This is a death squad. A pair of police begins approaching from both sides of her Venza. I snipped the left one first and for a brief moment they stood surprised. I fired another headshot at one taking cover behind his car door. The officer coming up on Diana's right turned around and started running back upon realizing he is exposed and almost made it to cover before being gunned downed by my W2000. The recoil I felt each time I squeezed the trigger sent pain through my arms. My burn wounds are still fresh and this was going to make shooting difficult. It was then they realized where the shooting originated and began firing in my direction. I scooted back until out of view while listening to the bullets hitting near me. This was accompanied by the sound of pistols discharging and a scream which told me Diana seized the opportunity to eliminate at least one more of them. Four down with eight to go: An improvement but still poor odds. The death squad brought an arsenal and wasn't going run out of ammo anytime soon. I can't get another clean shot off so it's best to change position, but before I could begin to do so, I saw something flash past me from my right then hit and destroyed two of the cars, killing another four. I look and see…him standing next to me with an RPG in hand. As I react, he swings it down across my face. The blow sends me rolling and leaves me dazed for a moment. When I recover and climb to one knee I draw my SMG in his direction, but he already had enough time to reload the RPG and aimed it at me.

xxxxxxx

"Fuck this, I'm out of here! Don't know about the rest of you, but I won't die for the Kayaru brothers."

Fortunately, the explosion was enough to discourage the remaining gunmen and they fled in their cars. I'm guessing they're off duty and the firepower they brought belongs to their department, and for them this was supposed to be an off the books operation. Otherwise they would've stayed and called for reinforcements. That murderous lunatic probably knew this, which would explain why he wasn't concerned when Basil threaten that they were coming. Never the less, this little war occurring inside a Football stadium was bound to draw attention from the real police sooner or later and I needed to be long gone. All tires are flat on the Venza so Morris and I have to move on foot. Seven minutes later and we're able to acquire a worn-down blue Volvo by standing in front of it with our weapons drawn on it until it stops. Morris scares away the driver and gets behind the wheel and waits for me, but I discover that I'm unable to leave just yet.

"Ma'am? What's wrong?"

"I'm not a field agent Morris, but I don't feel comfortable leaving 47 behind. Not this time. He came here and saved our lives."

"It's 47 Ms. Burnwood. He can handle anything. If you want to help him, then you can call for backup from HQ."

"There's not a bloody chance in hell they'll get here in time." I sneered.

"Assuming it's not already too late."

"You never heard what is said about those who make assumptions, Morris? You make an ass out of yourself –umption." I replied pointing my gun at him.

"Ms. Burnwood?"

"Thank you for your service but I'll take it from here. Step out and away from the car."

"You want to shoot me?"

"I certainly don't want to." I pulled back the hammer.

He knew I was serious and complied. I got inside and begin returning to the stadium. If 47 is still alive then at least he and I will have an escape vehicle.

xxxxxxxx

"I came here for a good vantage point and instead find 640509-040147. Thought you were burnt to ashes by now but I am sure glad you're here."

"What makes you think I'm not my brother?"

"Shot him low in the stomach. Even as strong as both of you are, you'll still need more time to heal from that. I'm speaking from personal experience. So…I'm presuming there's another contract out on me or Serge. That's why you're here right? Risking the life you narrowly manage to keep just to pick-up another paycheck."

"No. I'm going to kill you simply for the pleasure of it."

"Hmm. If I didn't know better, I'd say I was starting to rub off on you Hitman. Maybe you're not as empty on the inside as I thought. Tell you what: I'll improve your chances. Throw away your guns and I'll do the same."

"….."

"If I shoot at this range, we're both dead. Or we could put aside the artillery and make it 50/50."

There's no doubt that he is willing to take us both out, but he's still hoping I agree to his terms because he wants to capture me alive again. I discard the SMG and only one of my Silverballers then wait for him to drop the RPG, intending to put a bullet in his head once it's out of his hands. But instead he walks over to me with the weapon and tries to hit me with it. I evade and roll to a standing position, then he rushes swinging the RPG as if it were a baseball bat, using it for melee combat which is an absurd plan of attack. Then again it's best to remember who I'm dealing with. I try to get some distance for a chance to use my Baller but he stays too close. We make a few exchanges before the target switches tactics by suddenly placing his heavy weapon across both hands and throwing it in my direction. Instinctively I catch it while he charges and tackles me to the ground. He uses his weight and left forearm and tries to press down against my neck but I'm able to protect my throat with my left hand.

Next he strikes me with an elbow twice then pulls out a syringe and I quickly block his arm as he attempts to stab me with it. He's looking to end this as quickly and bag the prize. I can't keep this up too much longer, especially with my forearms feeling as if still inflamed. I free my arm that was being used for defense and switch to offence at the risk of being choked and press against his face, brushing off some of his stiches. Then he starts biting my hand - again! I'm tired of him using his teeth! Instead of trying to pull away, I force my hand deeper into his mouth - deep enough to make him choke which caught him by surprise. Taking advantage of the open window I roll on top and grip the inside of his bottom jaw and yank. Nothing on the first attempt so I did it again, and on the third try I pulled my hand out – along with most of his teeth as well as extending his jaw somewhat, followed by the sound of a loud cracking noise. Next I squeeze his syringe hand until it crushes inside his palm, then continue to hold it down.

His wide-eyed expression and scream informs me he wasn't expecting this turn of events. Not wasting time, I press my forearm down against his neck with all my strength. His left arm fumbles around aimlessly against me trying to push away but that wasn't going to happen. Ten seconds or less and it'll be done, then I'll hunt down the Kayaru brothers. He pulled something from my jacket and only too late I remembered the second Silverballer. I'm hit twice in the torso and force is enough to push me away. He sits up and shoots me again and the power behind my gun sends me sliding over the edge of the dome, landing on a parked car inside the stadium. The lightweight Kevlar under my suit soaks the shots but not the impact. That as well as the fall has completely taken the wind out of me and there's no telling how much damage was done, but I can certainly feel it. I'm stuck here while my body tries to remember how to function. John Doe looks down on me with a mixture of pain and frustration. Sirens echoed from the distance meaning he's out of time. He not going to get what he's after, but the truth is none of us are reaching our objectives today. The roar of an AK-47 fires in his direction and he flees. Sluggishly I roll myself off the car, landing on my hands and knees and look up when I hear footsteps approaching. Serge Kayaru is standing over me.

"Ah, just the man I'm hoping to see. I'll deal with that creature later but for now-"

Instead of finishing me off, he smacks my head with the butt of the rifle, and then places it aside.

"A bullet is too generous for you."

I remember when he called using Diana's phone, threatening me because he believed she and I are romantically involved. Wasn't paying any attention at the time nor did I care how he gotten that Idea, but he's making it personal, and I'm still in a weaken state. He picks me up and drags me by the back of the collar, yanks open the door of the car I landed on, and slams the door shut against my head a number of times before letting me drop back down. I'm already in such a state of agony and distortion that I hardly felt it. Needed at least half a minute to gather some energy to fight back but he wasn't going to allow it. Serge kicks me repeatedly before he notice something fell out of my pocket and picked it up.

"Fiber Wire, huh? One of your tools of the trade, correct? Now this is poetic justice."

I felt it wrap around my throat and tighten as I've done many times before. My vision begins to darken…

xxxxxxxx

Serge is overly occupied to notice me drive up. Stepping out I fire a bullet into his left shoulder, making him release 47 and fall to the ground. He tries scrambling to reach an AK. I shoot out a kneecap and he shouts in pain and stops reaching for it. I move over to 47 laying face down, appearing rather banged up. I turn him over and try to shake him awake. He coughs weakly before passing out and I can only pry he's not in critical condition. Luckily there's still a pulse.

"47, can you hear me? Respond dammit!"

"Leave him to die in peace, Dian-

I cut him off by placing another two bullets in the same leg and he cries out. He won't be able to walk without a cane for certain but I'd like to do far worse. I don't recall there being a soul on Earth who despise more.

"You know… what happens if you… kill me Diana. You can't." He said through short breaths of agony.

"Doesn't mean I won't."

"I know your…ill will toward me is because of… him, so I can forgive you for that. We were in the middle of our deal before that…creature appeared. And I would've kept my end of the bargain."

"Is Basil dead?"

"My army here is shattered!"

"But that wasn't your call now, was it Serge."

The sirens are louder now which means it's only a matter of minutes. I would normally prefer to get somewhere safe and call a private doctor but bringing one in would take longer then I'd like, and I wasn't going to risk it while not knowing the extent of damage to 47's body and risk possible death. In an ambulance he can receive treatment ASAP while riding to a hospital. Still, it also means 47 and I will be stuck behind enemy lines for the time being. Something I'll have to find a way to deal with later. But the officers on the Kayaru's payroll have been dealt with so there was no immediate threat to worry over for now. Serge began to speak with pace.

"Let's make another deal then. My operations, my connections, EVERYTHING I have – all of it yours. A trade for his life."

"You are insane."

"All those lives you're so worried about? They'll be yours to do whatever you see fit. All for the price of one insignificant low-life assassin who can't nearly have the amount of impact you can, Diana."

"Early on you spoke about how you 'ascended to my level'. But I say you're well past me because I can't play god."

With that I drop my Witness Elite and raise my hands as they approach. They cuffed Serge and I while an ambulance crew brought a stretcher for an unconscious 47. I offered the $1000 from my wallet if I'm allowed to ride with him. And to send Serge off to a different hospital, which I found to my surprise, they were all too glad to do. It would seem that not everyone here is a Kayaru supporter and I'm curious to learn how far that goes. I'm normally not gambling person but with Basil out of the equation, I'm willing to wager Serge will now focus his resources on trying to eliminate 47, which as peculiar as it may sound is actually good news – the only good news that came out of this mess in fact because this isn't over yet. For now however, the Kayaru's course of plot has been derailed. I travel in the ambulance with my partner- my friend who I trust my life with – and begin whispering into his ear…

xxxxxxxx

(CRUNCH) "Ahhhhhhhh!"

(Muffled scream)

"Excuse me for a minute there Basil, had to adjust my jaw. The lab-rat clone brothers are…a force to be reckoned with. I'll give them that."

(Muffled shouting)

"Why I cuffed you up in the backseat instead of finishing you off in the stands? To talk about Serge of course. The whole operation inside and out plus everything you know about that chick he's interested in. I figured you wouldn't mind much since he sold your ass out down the river."

"…."

"Coming up on our stop now. I'll pull you out of the backseat."

"Stay still while I untie this rag from your mouth. Is that better?"

"Who the hell are you and where am I?!"

"As long as you've lived here you never come across a junkyard before? In case you didn't, this is where cars get crushed. Among other thing. So about your brother…"

"Maybe you're right about the recent outing he and I had, but how does that translate into me helping whoever the hell you are? Why should I and what's in it me?"

"I can offer you lots of scrap metal."

"And what the fuck would I do with this junk?"

"You've spent too much time sitting at the top Basil. There are tons of things I can do to people with scrap. It's pretty painful to speak on it right now, so I'd rather get started showing you."

xxxxxxxx

"Sorry to keep you waiting sir, but there's now a seat ready."

"Thank you."

"So you picked out what kind of tattoo you want?"

"I like to make a small modification to the one I have."

"You mean this barcode? I gotta say it looks pretty wicked man. Whatcha need done?"

"Are you able to read the last two numbers on the far right?"

"Yeah, 17."

"I want you to change the 1 into a 4."


End file.
